


Casa de Island Avengers

by inkbert



Series: we'll get there fast, and then we'll take it slow [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Board Games, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Island vacation, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Puppy Piles, Schmoop, Science Bros, Shenanigans, Team Bonding, Victory Eyebrow Twitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 58,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkbert/pseuds/inkbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve harangues the Avengers and their plus-ones (and one plus one's plus one) into an island vacation in the name of much-needed team bonding. He doesn't actually have a plan beyond that, and is kind of hoping for the best. It's two weeks of sand spiders, pop tart sandwiches, mixing combustibles, drunk Twister, and what Steve is certain is far, far too much coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you're reading this after Here I am, and I stand here's your heads up that this is very different. This is fluff and silliness and schmoopiness. There are sprinkles of angsty behavior, because apparently I can't not, but for the most part it's all beach parties and limited edition pop tarts.

The weather is nearly perfect for training. Steve watches a group of trainees jog past in formation, wearing shorts and sweaters. It’s a little cool standing still, but going through the paces will keep them warm. Better than the cold that burns all the way down, or heat that feels like a drug after a while.

“Captain.” Agent Thomason jogs past, her short cap of blonde hair bouncing as sweat drips down her face. 

He gets eight more Captains and another twenty-three polite and professional head nods on his way to his quarters. It all drops off once he reaches the permanent residence floors. Very few have access to them.

It’s strikingly quiet, and Steve can’t help but glance up at a speaker in the ceiling as he passes. Now they’re used for announcements and alarms. Jarvis had been some version of ‘uninstalled’ although Steve has no doubt that Tony could easily get him back in if he ever needed or wanted to.

Tony had never moved in, but Jarvis had kept them all in the loop. It had almost worked. Steve could see it clearly now, in hindsight, that it had been an uphill battle. They’d fought it, some more valiantly than others. Natasha, she’d tried so hard. Clint. Sam.

Steve had been fighting his own war, available to them only for skirmishes that he didn’t understand the importance of until later. 

So he could see now, how it had almost worked. How close they had been. And how no matter how close they had been, they’d never really had a chance at all. Little things had been off, but they were the type of things that threw everything into disarray. Things that made the ground unsteady.

Steve and Tony never being able to find a common thread. Bruce’s inability to forgive or accept himself, and therefore unable to receive those things from others. Pietro and Wanda never being able to shake off their distrust. 

It all meant the team couldn’t actually become a team. Even if they all wanted, maybe even needed, it.

So Tony had never come. Clint had been the first to leave, even if he’d had the constant excuse of surveillance missions to hide behind. The missions were a choice, and he made it frequently enough that during the last six months Clint technically lived at the compound, he’d only spent a total of thirteen nights and even fewer days.

Thor had only lived at the compound sporadically. Sometimes he was needed in other realms, other times he went to wherever Jane Foster was. No one could blame him, and slowly, the compound saw less and less of him until Steve didn’t even think to check if Thor was in-house.

Sam tried, he really did, to stay on board. But he had a sick mother in DC, and Steve didn’t begrudge him one bit. 

Soon it was only Steve, Bucky, Nat, Wanda and Pietro left at the compound ‘full-time’. But Nat and Steve often had long missions, and more often than not Bucky is at Steve’s side. Wanda and Pietro kept to themselves like it was their profession. 

“We shouldn’t be surprised.” Nat says, sitting on his couch and watching the television. 

Steve doesn’t startle. Not at the sound of her voice anymore. She’s let herself into his quarters before. On the TV screen, a black car drives up a ramp, launching itself over a long line of ice cream trucks in a dirt arena. 

He also doesn’t ask what they shouldn’t be surprised about. More often than not, she knows where his head is at. It’s disconcerting, but helpful in the field.

She doesn’t take her eyes from the screen. “What do we know about having a home?”

“I had one. Once.” Steve tells her. He knows it’s more than she had, and he wishes that wasn’t true. Home is more important than people think, because most people don’t have to go without one. It bolsters you, it anchors your place in the world. The home he’d left behind, it had carried him through the war. 

Green eyes flick over to him. “Not anymore.”

“No.” Steve turns away from her. She doesn’t pull her punches. Sometimes he wishes she did. Only not. He doesn’t want her to hold back, he likes her honesty. Needs it in a world where most people tell him what he wants to hear. 

“You’re a soldier.” She’s facing the TV again, he can tell. The words are dismissive, like that should explain everything. “You’ve trained it out of yourself.”

“Trained what out?”

“Home.” She motions to his living room. 

“I haven’t had time to fix it up.” He says defensively. So far he’d only pinned a few of his drawings up with thumb tacks. 

“I’m leaving in an hour. I’ll be out of contact for two weeks.” She says, standing as the television flicks off to a black screen. “Clint will be able to contact me if there’s an emergency.” 

Steve doesn’t have a way to contact Clint right now, but he knows that Clint must have some way of monitoring things if she was mentioning it. 

The door clicks shut behind her, and Steve continues on his way to his shower. He’s still grasping for the right words, ones that might have earned him a real smile, one he’d only managed to see a few times but wanted to see again. 

It seems like he’s always looking for those words around Natasha. 

And then realizing he shouldn’t be thinking about finding the right words. She’s on his team, and they communicate exceedingly well for team purposes. 

What he should be focusing on is communication with everyone else. The team is splintered, and it shows when they’re forced to work together. If there’s another New York? Another Sokovia? Steve isn’t sure they could handle it.

Tony had offered his island. Jokingly, as a place for Steve and Bucky to have some ‘alone time’. It’s a last ditch attempt, but Steve thinks he might be able to get everyone there.


	2. Chapter 2

“This is an intriguing offer, Steven.” Thor says loudly. Thor can’t regulate his volume on the phone. 

“Intriguing.” Steve repeats. But he doesn’t know what else to say to tempt the alien prince. Natasha had agreed because she was on board with the plan, and maybe a little because Steve had asked. Bucky had agreed because Steve had asked, maybe a little because he was on board with the plan.

Sam and Clint had agreed because it’s a vacation at one of Stark’s beach houses, all expenses paid.

Pietro and Wanda had agreed because they still viewed Steve’s requests and invitations as orders. 

Thor didn’t have Steve’s back the way Natasha and Bucky did, he didn’t help him plan and strategize. They weren’t the kind of friends that had long talks. And Thor likely wouldn’t be tempted by Tony’s fancy house or Earth’s landscapes. 

Natasha holds out her hand, coming out of Steve’s kitchen with an apple and a knife in her other hand. Steve hands over the phone and takes the apple and the knife, cutting it for her the way she likes. In lots of thin slices. 

She stands near the horizontal narrow window, then paces through the living room. She glances towards the drawings pinned to the wall and Steve’s hands twitch. 

When she ends the call she crosses back to him.

“He’ll come if he can bring Jane.” 

Steve could kick himself, and Natasha raises a sardonic brow. “That’s fine. More than fine, Tony is bringing Pepper.” 

“They’re going to talk about it later. Apparently she’s in the field, and he doesn’t know when she might return.” She takes a small bite of one of the apple slices. She can spend an hour eating one apple that way. 

“Does Clint have anyone...” Steve trails off, thinking, “Or any of the others? Should I call them, make an offer?”

He hesitates, because if anyone is dating someone, and they do want to bring them, it should probably be cleared by the team. And would involve a background check. 

“Clint is interested in Wanda.” Natasha says simply, as if it is obvious and known knowledge. Steve used to think it meant that he’d somehow missed something everyone else had long picked up on, and had once proceeded as if that were true and had ended up embarrassing a SHIELD operative.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I’m not sure Clint knows that.” Natasha’s lips twitch just slightly.

Steve thinks for a second. “He seems afraid of her.”

“He is.” She doesn’t smirk as much as he thought she would at that. “Both in the way that is good, because Clint likes scary women, and the way that is not good. She tried to manipulate his mind. She could try to do so again.”

“Does Jane know the team? Or Pepper?” Steve asks, partially to keep her from scooping up her apple slices and leaving.

“She’s met some of the team. Clint likes her after that protection detail in Lima. I do not believe she has met Pepper.” Natasha takes another nibble of her apple slice. “She is likely to not want to leave her work for so long.”

“Is there something we could arrange for her? Is there an event nearby? Does she like music?” Steve feels a familiar twinge of anxiety, guessing at something a woman might like. 

“SHIELD’s research on her indicated few interests outside of her work.”

“That is unexpectedly lacking, considering SHIELD’s files on everyone else.”

“It’s not. She actually has few interests outside of her work.” Natasha picks up the cutting board and Steve fights a sigh. 

Steve isn’t exactly surprised the next day when Thor calls to say that he won’t be able to come for the entire two weeks. 

“However, I would most enjoy a revel with my shield-brothers and sisters. I will leave my Jane’s side for a few days to partake.” Thor promises.

“That would be good.” Steve rubs the back of his neck. “But the thing is, I really wanted the team to have the full two weeks.”

“Did I misunderstand? Are we training for battle in a new arena?”

“No, not training. The team needs to spend time together.”

“I see.” Thor practically booms, somehow managing to also sound contemplative. 

“You could tell her that Clint is going to be there? Nat says they are friends.” Steve says. “And Pepper’s going, so Jane won’t be the only non-Avenger there. I think it’s important for all of us to be there. Including family.”

“I understand it is impolite by midgardian standards to invite others to someone’s dwelling.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My Jane would be far more likely to agree to this vacation if Lady Darcy could accompany her. Lady Darcy is my lightning sister, so she is my family here on Midgard.” 

“Darcy Lewis?” Steve remembers the name. Dr. Foster’s intern. Assistant. Manager. It’s a little murky on paper, but according to Natasha, not murky at all in person. “Bring her.”

“Now I am well pleased to think of this vacation.” Thor says happily. “Darcy! The Captain has invited us all to a land called Majorca in three weeks time, but my Jane is uncertain she can leave her work. Do you think you could-“

“Oh, we’re going.” A female voice interrupts. Suddenly it’s the woman’s voice in Steve’s ear. “Is this Captain America?”

“Speaking.” Steve replies even as he looks down at his pajamas. He wonders if he should mention that it’s an island near Majorca, not actually Majorca, but the woman doesn’t give him time. And he has a feeling Natasha would make that face she makes. 

“What’s the bed situation? Like, am I looking at a couch? In a room with Thor and Jane? On a sleeping porch? Can I have a sleeping bag to sleep on the beach, and are there crabs that will climb into my sleeping bag?”

Steve looks up as his door slides open and Natasha walks in. She’s dressed, Steve has never seen her anything less than perfectly put together, even on days like today when she’s wearing a pair of well fitting jeans and a long sleeve shirt. 

“Everyone gets their own bedrooms, I don’t know if there is a sleeping porch, and I don’t think Tony has sleeping bags.” Steve tips the phone away from his face to speak to Natasha. “Are there crabs in Majorca, and will they climb into sleeping bags?”

Natasha smiles, and Steve feels his confusion and bewilderment fade away, replaced by surprise. 

“You are talking to Darcy.” 

“Who is that?” Darcy says in his ear. “Damn spies and knowing my name. Is this a spy house? Are we going to a spy vacation? I don’t know if I want to go, because I’ll be afraid to eat anything and I like eating.”

“Steven has said that we are going to one of Tony’s houses.” Thor says in the background. 

“I’m still ordering a metric ton of pop tarts for us. Just in case.” Darcy says. “Okay, Cap. We’ll be there, but if I get carried off by crabs it’s your patriotic duty to come rescue me.”

“If I could speak to-“ Steve stops talking when he hears the click. Natasha watches him silently. “Jane didn’t want to come, but Thor thinks Darcy can get her to come. So Darcy’s invited too.”

“I look forward to meeting her.” Natasha says, her lips still slightly curved. Steve turns away from the sight, reaching for the paperwork that had been left on his kitchen counter.

He was interested in meeting Darcy Lewis as well, if she could make Natasha smile that way. 

Immediately after that thought, he mentally kicks himself and forces himself to focus on the mission parameters in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky stands on the patio with his hands braced on the low half wall, looking out over the dunes that separated them from the beach. Palm trees sway, and the water is jewel blue with the sun beaming down from directly overhead.

At age twenty-four, Steve never would have imagined he’d see such a sight in person. At age twenty-eight (or ninety-three depending on how the years are counted) he can’t find it in himself to appreciate the view.

It seems Bucky is the same. Sam is not, he’s sitting in one of the cushy chairs, arms spread as if to soak up the sun. 

“Hello boys.” Natasha steps through the sliding door with Clint. Pietro and Wanda follow them, eyes darting around. 

Steve glances over at her, glad that she’s finally arrived, only to look away again very quickly. She’s wearing a blue sundress and tortoise shell sunglasses, but she’s not undercover. 

“I brought hot dogs.” Clint is scanning the beach, then the trees and roof line. His eyes linger in many of the same places Bucky’s had. “Who knows what Tony thinks beach food is.” 

Clint hops up onto the wall and walks along it, balancing easily. “I never heard if you managed to convince Thor to leave the Queen of Science.”

Steve glances over at Natasha in surprise. “Thor should arrive tonight, late sometime. With Jane and Darcy.”

“Darcy’s coming?” Clint spins back to face Steve with a grin. 

“Been calling Steve for a week.” Bucky says with a smirk.

“Has she?” Tony expertly dodges away from Pepper as he waggles his brows at Steve. Bruce nods his head back in greeting, trailing behind Tony. “Does Cap have a lady love? Who? What do they talk about? Does Cap know how to sext? Do we need to have a talk?”

Steve thinks it’s ridiculous how hard it is to keep his eyes from darting towards Natasha to see how she reacts. One, he’s supposed to be a professional damn agent, who doesn’t give things away like a grade school kid with chocolate stained fingers. Two, Natasha doesn’t react, not in public.

“Darcy has been calling Steve in preparation for the trip.” Natasha explains. “She is traveling internationally with Thor, and she apparently does most of the logistical planning for Jane.”

“So they’ve been travel planning for the literally star-crossed lovers?” Tony asks, sounding disappointed. “Boring.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky leans back against the wall, missing the way Clint looks at him in surprise for voluntarily speaking again, “what was the last thing she wanted to know, Steve?”

“If they had to bring biodegradable sunscreen, if there are any pencils here or places to get pencils,”

“I’ve got some pens.” Pepper offers.

“Hide them.” Steve advises, lips twitching. “There are to be no writing utensils within reach of Dr. Foster. We’re also supposed to hide chalk, crayons, graphite, and any etching materials. Lastly, she wanted to know if Tony had Twister, because Thor wants to play.”

“Twister.” Tony looks intrigued.

“She’s bringing it.” Steve tells him, then can’t help but smile when his phone begins to ring. After a second’s hesitation he presses the speaker button. “Hi Darcy. You’re on speaker, I’ve got everybody here.”

“Everybody? On speaker.” She repeats.

“Yes.” Steve fights a wince. There had been something about putting people on speaker during a phone etiquette tutorial, but he was pretty sure it had been to just make sure the other person knew. 

“Hello Avengers.” Darcy says, voice sounding oddly gleeful.

“Hello Darcy.” Clint, Natasha, Sam and Tony say in unison.

“Welp. There’s my life made. I don’t even remember why I called. Thanks Steve, best ever. All of the awesome.” The phone clicks off.

Then rings immediately. Steve hits the speaker button again. “Still on speaker.”

“I remembered! We bought you a present!” Darcy exclaims. “Hello Avengers.”

“Hello Darcy.” They all chorus again.

“A present.” Steve repeats, even as he wonders if he wants to know. 

“You’re gonna love it, Steve. We also got one for Sam. The Hawkeye one was a rip off, so we didn’t get it. Merchandisers suck. Also, we’re buying some stuff to make crepes and we just finished the Do It Like an Avenger quiz to make sure we were on point this week, and it said Pietro is a crepe expert. Apparently he makes them for all his dates before he breaks their hearts. There may have been a speed dating pun.”

Wanda makes a choking sound, and Pietro looks bewildered. 

“So Pietro gets to pick. Chocolate crepes or raspberry? Snap, snap.”

Wanda elbows Pietro. “Uh. Fruit?”

“Ha HA!” Doctor Foster shouts.

“Well played, my love.” Thor rumbles.

“Hell.” Darcy sighs. “They’re going to be intolerable now.” The phone clicks off again. 

“Well, we’re keeping them.” Tony says, turning to Pepper. “Why don’t we have them?”

“Dr. Foster has categorically ignored any and all offers of employment we’ve extended.” Pepper responds. “And Ms. Lewis has said she would only consider a position if she would still be working with Dr. Foster.”

The phone rings again. 

“She does call Steve a lot. It might be a complex.” Tony says.

Steve flicks the speaker button. “Still on speaker.”

“It is not on.” Jane’s voice says.

“It is too, the screen is lit up.” Darcy’s voice says. “Thor, tell her the phone is on.”

“Sometimes my phone lights up but I have not called anyone.” Thor says and Darcy groans.

“Steve?” Darcy calls. “Steve, record this and send it to the appropriate parties when I die so I can be sainted.”

“Oh my god, Darcy. The phone is off.” Jane says, her voice getting louder. “Here, see, the phone- Hey, is it supposed to stay lit up this long? Isn’t that bad for the battery?”

“Hey Steve,” Darcy calls out, “if you’re any kind of hero, you’ll make sure there is so much alcohol when I get there.”

“What the hell?” Jane says. “This phone is on!”

“Whaaaaaa?” Darcy says in a high, falsely surprised tone. 

“Hello Steven!” Thor yells, and everyone on the patio winces. He was farther from the phone, which should mean his normal phone volume would not be an issue, but he’d compensated for the distance.

“Sainthood.” Darcy says before the phone clicks.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky knows he’s the only reason Steve is still awake. Punk. 

If he could straighten out the words in his head, he’d make a comment along the lines of Barton perched on his barstool pretending he wasn’t watching Wanda curled up in the arm chair across the room. 

But his head is a tangle, and he’s very distracted by the glass on the coffee table. He knows it is revealing something about him, and he wants to pick it up, dump its contents into the sink, and close himself away in his room. He just doesn’t know what it is revealing about him, and he’s nearly as curious as Steve is about it. 

“This is the worst slumber party ever.” Tony says, scowling. 

“You could always go to bed, Tony.” Steve suggests with patience that is obviously wearing thin. 

“Where Pepper is waiting.” Clint adds as Wanda turns a page in her book, ignoring them all. “Why are you out here with us anyway?”

The door at the end of the long back hallway opens, announcing the arrival of the last of their party. Bucky stands, suddenly uneasy and unable to fight the urge away despite knowing that these are allies. In Thor’s case, Steve’s friend even. 

They have no ability to hide their movements. Or they aren’t even trying. They practically stomp down the hall, thumping against both walls. 

A diminutive woman stumbles into the living room and Steve jumps to his feet as she struggles with a large duffle. But she’s steadied and tugged backwards by Thor, so he’s holding her against him. 

“Dr. Foster.” Steve says. “Thor.”

“Steve!” Darcy’s voice calls from the hall. “Is that my drink? I’ll love you forever if you made that for me.”

“Actually, Bucky made it.” Steve says, darting a measuring look towards Bucky, as if worried Bucky would jump through the window. 

Steve always was perceptive.

“Wrong super soldier, huh?” Darcy walks into the living room with three bags over her shoulder. She’s short and curvy, with large blue eyes and dark hair pulled into a lopsided pony tail. She has dark circles under her eyes and her clothing is rumpled. She smiles at Bucky as she picks up the drink and takes a sip. Then downs it. “Well, I’m keeping you.”

“Darcy, you can’t just decide to keep him.” Dr. Foster declares, scrambling to adjust her grip on the duffle bag. It slips from her arms and Thor catches it, easily adding it to the luggage he carried.

“What, I need to hit him with the RV twice first?” Darcy asks, turning in a circle examining the room. 

“A most successful courting gesture!” Thor declares. “And I am certain that if you truly wanted him, lightning sister, my Jane would strike him with your lightning box in between.”

“Worth it.” Tony says, eyes darting around the room. 

“Do the rooms have signs? Like at summer camp?” Darcy asks. “Because I need direction or someone’s waking up with a buddy. And I steal covers.”

Red light engulfs her head and everyone stiffens. It fades as quickly as it appeared and Darcy turns to Wanda.

“Awesome sauce. Thanks.” 

“I’ll walk you.” Wanda replies, standing fluidly. She carries herself with none of the grace or seduction Natasha embodies, instead seeming like something unfolding, both delicate and dangerous, sharp and dark. 

“I’m going to pretend you two don’t exist until morning when you make me breakfast.” Darcy tells Thor and Jane as she passes them.

“Understood, Lady Darcy.” Thor nods seriously. “I apologize again for-“

“I’m already pretending, big guy. Already pretending.” Darcy calls over her shoulder. 

“Do you have a pen?” Jane says, and Bucky realizes her eyes are focused on him. 

“I am quite tired!” Thor declares loudly. He is perhaps even less suited for undercover work than Steve, the part of Bucky that can’t forget the Soldier’s training notes. “Our travels have worn on me, Jane. Let us retire to our temporary lodgings to recover.”

 

The next morning, Bucky is still filtering his reactions to the new place. So many people together, in a casual setting. He thinks it’s good. Probably for him, but definitely for Steve.

Bucky stands on the patio watching Steve and Natasha. They’re walking on the beach, the sun is shining, Steve had loosened up enough to wear shorts, and Natasha is wearing a pale yellow dress. They look like a damn commercial for a vacation planning company, but Bucky can read them both.

Natasha has fallen back on her training, and Steve is still hiding behind his professionalism. Steve’s worry about making this trip a success makes it all too easy, and Bucky can guarantee that’s what they’re talking about.

Admittedly, they aren’t off to the best start. Barton has climbed up a tree down the beach and is sleeping. Pietro and Wanda had left right after breakfast, disappearing in a blur to explore the island. Sam had set up a lawn chair down by the water with a radio. Pepper and Tony had briefly hung out there, but had left hours ago to ‘grab lunch’. 

Thor’s contingent of the group are all still sleeping. 

All in all, not a lot of team bonding going on. Breakfast had been strange to say the least. Pepper had read the newspaper on her tablet, at first just checking in, but then she seemed to using it as a distraction, a reason to hold herself separate from the uneasy awkwardness of the quiet kitchen.

Sam had been watching everyone as he crunched through two bowls of cereal. Tony hadn’t deigned to sit with anyone, instead leaning against the wall behind Pepper’s chair and drinking mug after mug of coffee. 

Steve had sliced fruit for everyone which had been well received. Then Barton had looked at Natasha, turning a triangular piece of orange over in his fingers. She then ignored the small pile of orange pieces she’d put onto her plate.

Bucky examined it, as he did every irregularity, some part of him needing to understand in case it was relevant. It didn’t matter if he knew that why triangular orange pieces were significant to the Black Widow was never going to be useful information. Some part of him needed it categorized and filed away, for when the Black Widow attacked. 

It was a strange way to slice oranges, and Steve had done the slicing. Steve used to eat oranges slowly, peeling the skin off, then eating each section. Today he had sliced them into wedges with the peel on, and then halved those wedges. Bucky struggles to find which thread to focus on, becoming more frustrated. Did it matter that Steve had done the slicing? Or only that Black Widow was somehow cowed by this tell that Hawkeye knew and spotted? Bucky didn’t want to focus on this at all, and he hated the reminder that the Soldier needed someone to point him. 

It still bothers him hours later, standing on the patio. 

But now he's outside, he doesn’t have to keep an eye on all possible exits. 

Down on the beach, Steve curls one hand, the one hidden by his body from Natasha, into a fist. 

He doesn’t need to worry about hiding such a gesture. Natasha isn’t watching, not even out of the corner of her eye. She’d turned her back to Steve, and now stands with her feet in the surf. 

Bucky tilts his head, eyes flicking between the pair. Slowly, realization dawns.

Steve had cut the oranges. Into triangles. For Natasha. 

Oh, Steve. What a fucking clueless punk.


	5. Chapter 5

Holy flying monkeys. Bucky Barnes is literally standing in a ray of sunshine, smiling softly. With his pillow lips. 

Darcy flops backwards into her armchair and heaves a sigh. 

“More coffee?” Thor’s head pops into view summoned by her melancholy, eyes far too bright for how early it is. Er. How early it feels. 

“Fine.” Darcy waves a hand imperiously, just to amuse him. It works, and good humor dances in his blue eyes. 

He brings her more coffee promptly, doctored perfectly. Then he retreats to the kitchen, and soon after she hears him humming. Just another morning with the God of Thunder. 

A week didn’t pass where he didn’t decide he was beholden to her in some way and therefore had to repay his debt with breakfast. Darcy doesn’t mind it a bit. 

She stands automatically when the humming stops, knowing that the toast is done and her food will be waiting. Glorious, Thor-made and approved food. 

Sure enough, she reaches the kitchen island bar stools in time to see Thor setting a plate down at the empty seat next to Jane. It has three strawberry waffles topped with a mountain of whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. A second plate holds bacon, scrambled eggs, and nutella toast.

Jane’s plate is similarly piled high. The two women will eat maybe a third of it, and then Thor will finish everything. Leftovers are seriously a thing of the past.

Darcy ignores Jane’s dejected figure next to her for most of breakfast, then finally breaks. “Jane.”

“What?” Jane looks up from tearing her napkin into shreds. “Did you change your mind about the hike?”

“Hells no. We’re hiking.” Darcy narrows her eyes at the other woman. She’d convinced her saying it would be an adventure. And that they’d go so they reached the highest point on the island at dusk so they could have a picnic and then look at the stars. And then make Thor hammer-time them back to Tony’s beach palace. Because night hiking is a no. The point is, they’re hiking. And Jane is going to like it. “I just thought I’d tell you that I arranged some lab time for you. We’ll fly out with Stark, Dr. Banner, and Pepper Potts on Wednesday morning, and come back Thursday night.”

“Lab? What lab?” But the brightness had returned to Jane’s eyes. 

“Tony’s secret lair lab. It’s probably in a cave or something. We’re going by helicopter.” Because that’s apparently a thing Darcy gets to say in her life. “But I already told him, I’m not assisting him or Dr. Banner. And I expect you to fight for my right not to do other people’s grunt work, Janey.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to see the inside of another lab for two weeks.” Thor comments, smiling at Darcy over Jane’s head. He was in agreement about how good a vacation would be for Jane, right up until Jane got the sads. Then he was puppy dog eying Darcy too. 

“I didn’t. But I’m a good friend.” Darcy says, preening.

“You are!” Jane hugs Darcy tightly, nearly bouncing in her seat. “Two weeks is just such a long time! Now I feel like I can have fun, because I’ll be able to check everything!”

And Jane is way too excited about work. Which is the norm for Jane, Darcy knows. But it’s been years of work, lots of times seven days a week. Darcy needs a vacation, Jane needs a vacation, hell, Thor needs a vacation.

“You are a stalwart and loyal friend, Darcy Lewis.” Thor declares, grinning proudly at her. Like he just can’t believe he knows people like Jane and Darcy. He looks at them like that all time. And when he gets drunk, he says things like that. 

“Here, here!” Jane calls, foisting her half-full mug of coffee into the air. It sloshes over the rim, and all three of them peer down at the spill. Who even has shallow coffee mugs like these? Who?! 

“We’ll have to fix that.” Darcy mutters, finally giving up on her own plate. She pats the counter top twice, ignoring that it’s some kind of thick slab of marble instead of the Formica she’s used to, to tap out. Jane automatically slides Darcy’s plates down to Thor, who energetically digs in.

Thor refills their coffees one last time, this time frowning down at the mugs like they’d offended him personally by failing his Jane. 

“I will search out my friends to invite them on our hike.” Thor announces, and Darcy follows his gaze to the windows overlooking the patio. Bucky is still there, but she can’t see his face anymore. 

“Team bonding. Woo.” Jane says halfheartedly. Darcy elbows her, and Jane straightens turning in her seat to portray a little more enthusiasm. Thor had said that he suspects Captain Rogers was attempting to strengthen the team, and that it was a worthy goal that had Thor’s full support. “Good luck.”

“Remember to tell them about the picnic.” Darcy advises. “People love food.”

“And Venus is in retrograde. People like that too.” Jane says, as always completely earnest in her belief that everyone is as enchanted by the stars as she is, despite continuing evidence to the extreme contrary. 

“It’s going to be baller.” Darcy agrees, and Jane’s lips twitch.


	6. Chapter 6

“He really told you it was going to be baller?” Tony shakes his head, staring at Natasha and Steve. If there are two people who would be less interested in ‘baller’, Tony doesn’t ever, ever want to meet them. He shudders and it draws Bruce’s eye. Tony tries to communicate the terrifying thought telepathically, because sometimes he’s almost sure they can do that. Bruce frowns.

“He just told me Venus would be in retrograde.” Clint shrugs, looking like GI Joe in his cargo pants and olive green t-shirt. “But I figured it would be better than-“

Natasha’s elbow finds Clint’s ribs and the archer stops talking.

“Thor said ‘baller’ and I missed it?” Tony asks, still not over it. “Why would he tell you two something is going to be ‘baller’? That’s not your scene. That’s my scene.”

“Why are you here then?” Clint pulls a pair of oh-god-so-nineties sunglasses from his pocket.

“Because Thor’s group is the fun group. Duh.” Tony answers promptly. Of course, now that Steve and Natasha are going, there is a potential for more fun-sucking. Tony would have rescinded his reservation, but Pepper is going. Strangely, Tony really likes watching Pepper do outdoorsy things. Maybe not so strangely. Competent as fuck Pepper is hot as fuck Pepper.

Just seeing her standing there in her hiking boots and tight leggings is reward enough for suffering Steve’s earnest expression. Earlier, she'd stretched and everything.

“What about you, Robocop?” Tony turns to study Barnes intently. A group hike really isn’t his thing. Solitude and angst, yes.

“Inner peace.” Barnes hums, and Tony blinks in surprise. Is it possible Barnes actually has a sense of humor buried underneath all of his miserable hobo ways? Tony looks towards Bruce and narrows his eyes. Are you getting this Bruce?

Bruce blinks and Tony heaves a sigh. Bruce gives him an apologetic look, then purses his lips. He pats at his shirt pocket. Tony digs a packet of gum out of the jumble of things in his pocket and offers it to Bruce who, Tony is positive, thinks thanks at him.

Thor practically jogs out onto the patio, wearing a giant backpack and a shirt that says _Do you even lift bro_?

“Anyone else getting a Kronk vibe here?” Darcy follows him out, eyes shielded by a pair of yellow daisy sunglasses. “Big guy, does All-Speak work on squirrels?”

“No creatures, Lady Darcy.” Thor says with a fond smile. “Not even spiders.”

“Dude, I think you’re selling yourself short there. Since you started telling them to leave me alone, I’ve seen a nineteen percent reduction.” Darcy stops short, looking around the group. Tony wonders if she’d known Thor had been tossing out invitations like confetti.

“Then I shall continue to do so.” Thor pledges, propping his arm on her shoulder. She tips slightly towards him before correcting. “Now, friends, choose a name!”

“What?” Clint asks deadpan.

“It is to be a friendly competition!” Thor smiles happily. “The first to reach the peak wins a most glorious prize.”

“Bragging rights, mostly.” Darcy corrects, shooting an uncertain look towards Nat and then Tony.

Uh, what? In what world is Tony grouped with Nat on prizes?

Thor frowns down at her. “And the pop-tart sandwich.”

“Yep. And that. First to the top gets the sandwich.” Darcy agrees. “Five people are picking names, and then one team gets a third person. Just to maybe balance some things out.”

She holds out her cupped hands to Thor and he selects a tiny piece of paper from within, his hands comically large compared to Darcy’s.

Thor grins victoriously. Over competitive much? “Natasha! We shall make a mockery of our foes!”

“Friendly competition.” Darcy sings.

“A friendly mockery!” Thor declares.

Pepper chooses next. Tony closes his eyes. Me, me, me, _me me me me_.

“Steve.” Pepper smiles with satisfaction, and Steve smiles back at her.

“And we have team ‘always prepared’.” Darcy says, sidling over to Clint. “Alright hand of iPod thief.”

Clint grins down at his paper. “You should be nicer to me. Maybe I’ll leave you hanging off of a cliff up there.”

Sam gets Bucky, and Jane gets Tony. For some reason, the decision is unanimous that Tony and Jane get the third person, and Bruce joins their team.

“They’re all just ridiculous.” Jane mutters, arms crossed as she surveys the different teams pouring over their maps. “I’m good at navigating. Just not driving while navigating.”

“Yeah, I mean, they put three geniuses on the same team and they expect us not to beat them?” Tony asks, watching as Pepper and Steve meticulously pack their bags.

Clint is already stalking off into the woods after Darcy. Bucky and Sam are bent over a map.

“I managed to get around in rural India for a year.” Bruce adds, and Jane nods as she hefts a backpack that is nearly half her size with ease, motioning to Bruce with the other hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky and Sam arrive only a minute before Darcy and Clint do. Steve and Pepper are next, but are both quietly smug about looking like they’d just completed an evening stroll instead of racing through a sub-tropical island jungle. 

Pepper is quick to offer Darcy some kind of spray that treats the giant bug bite she’d gotten on her shoulder. 

Thor and Natasha arrive next, both in surprisingly high spirits. Thor usually preferred to win, and Natasha never appeared to be in high spirits. But they crest the top of the mountain with Thor gesturing widely and Natasha laughing.

Lastly, Jane stomps out of the treeline alone, having abandoned Bruce and Tony down mountain due to ‘utter incompetence’ and her strong desire not to space portal them to the ‘ass end of space, where they’d fit in better’. 

Thor and Steve prepare to mount a rescue mission about the time they see the helicopter coming, and instead set to helping to build a bonfire.

Tony and Bruce climb off the copter in fresh clothes, with Tony eating an ice cream cone. “See Pep? I told you I’d be fine.”

Bucky has spent enough time with them that he doesn’t need to look to see Pepper’s look of exasperated fondness, or know that it will grow warmer and softer when Tony reaches her. 

Instead Bucky watches Steve watch Natasha. The other woman is listening to Clint and Darcy’s retelling of their ascent of the mountain, which included scaling a sheer cliff face Bucky and Sam had decided to avoid. It ends with Natasha admiring Darcy’s colorful rope bracelets while Darcy tries to finish making Bucky and Sam their prize.

Everyone watches doubtfully, but with growing interest, when Darcy sandwiches four roasted marshmallows between two fire-toasted chocolate pop-tarts. When she slices the sandwich in half, Thor actually sighs and looks away as if the sight is too much.

Sam is happy enough to accept the small paper plate Darcy hands him, and Bucky accepts his in an automatic gesture he only questions a second later. After the initial shock and fear he felt realizing he’d allowed someone to hand him something without watching every movement on their part, he decided to call that progress.

Then he looked at the lopsided pop-tart sandwich. The marshmallow is melted and stretching in gooey strands. It does not look appetizing, but he has seen s’mores mentioned in several television shows and movies. And Sam is happily moaning around his first bite, while Thor gets up and stalks away.

Bucky can see the evergreen, sparse grass against his boots. The sand scattered even here. On his plate his sandwich tilts precariously. Tony calls teasing remarks after Thor and close by, Darcy giggles under her breath.

Fingers tipped with shimmering blue polish dart to right his sandwich. He can see the parts of her hands that are still angry and worn from climbing ropes. “Eat up, Bucky. It’s better when it’s hot. Promise.”

She moves away then, to dig through the enormous backpack Thor had carried. Soon others attempt to help her, and she ends up yelling over them all to direct them in placing the blankets, not eating the grapes yet, and not touching the telescope. She’d actually smacked Tony’s hand on that one.

The sun is sinking, turning their mountain top pink. The air is sticky hot. Jane fiddles with her telescope while Darcy and Thor sprawl nearby on a blanket. Thor talks boisterously with Tony, the pair of them only becoming more and more outlandish and enjoying it. Darcy’s head is tipped to the side, and Bucky watches her until he realizes her even, slow breathing indicates that she’s fallen asleep.

Jane manages to enlist a smirking Clint and a more serious Steve into standing guard over her now perfectly calibrated and focused telescope. She digs more maps out of the backpack and studies them in the soft glow of the lantern Sam had lit, until Thor tugs her into his lap. After a momentary struggle she relaxes against him with a smile. 

The food is pulled out and prepared. The telescope is peered through by people who know what they’re looking at, and people who don’t. Bucky sincerely doesn’t want to know what Tony was whispering in Pepper’s ear the entire time she was gazing up at the stars. He’d never seen the woman have so much as a hint of color in her cheeks - and damn did Tony test her - but she stepped away from the telescope blushing to the tips of her ears. 

Steve finds a spot next to Bucky, and Natasha stations herself near Barton. Whatever almost flirtation they have going on, they’ve both retreated or pulled on their blinders. 

When Darcy wakes she stumbles towards the folding chair Jane is perched in near the fire, tumbling into her friend’s lap. Jane merely wraps her arms around Darcy, resting her chin on Darcy’s head as she continues to instruct Thor on roasting his marshmallows the correct way. The god listens with acute attention, which makes Tony snicker.

Bucky listens too. He knows how to do a lot of things he’d rather not. He doesn’t mind knowing how to roast marshmallows like Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis at all. 

Deciding on who took the first ride back to the house became a tangled mess that Bucky removed himself from. He ends up riding on the second of three trips, and somehow Sam falls asleep against his shoulder during the ten minute ride. Tony takes a picture.


	8. Chapter 8

On the second night, they end up watching Mission Impossible. Darcy gets that there are aliens and out of time super soldiers and apparently the aberration that is Clint (seriously, he’s a fucking _spy assassin_ ). But how, how, _how_ can there be a room with ten people in it and half of them have never seen Mission Impossible?

How is that a thing? That movie is like the movie version of chicken pox. Everyone has seen it, in a auto shop waiting room, on TBS while they’re getting over eating that questionable kebob from that iffy food cart, as an in-flight movie, while they’re stuck at their uncle’s birthday party. It’s just there, waiting to suck people in. They might not like it, but they’ve seen it.

It all starts because Tony and Sam _ruined_ breakfast. They took it upon themselves to tell Thor that he didn’t have to hum the mission impossible theme while he made toast. Even though Thor told them that he did, because it kept him from breaking the toaster.

So Thor broke the toaster, there may have been strong words from a toast-less Darcy, then explanations for the others, and then the revelation that fifty percent of their group had not seen Mission Impossible. Fifty percent of their group that often cooperates with an international spy agency.

So Tony helicoptered a new toaster in and they decided on a movie night.

But now Darcy’s ass is numb because she hadn’t landed a coveted couch spot, and Captain America had hogged all of the popcorn. And Clint had hogged all of the Twizzlers.

So she’s shifting, trying to get some feeling back, and she’s in a room of people who are trained fighters who keep noticing her every move. Awkward.

The next morning it’s a full house in the kitchen when Thor is making breakfast. He doesn’t seem to notice that his reinstated toast ritual has gained an audience of people not doing breakfasty things, but Darcy does.

“If you’re not in line for coffee, you need to vacate the coffee zone.” She says flatly. “I mean it Sam. You don’t want to be my mortal enemy.”

“My friend, that is not cool.” Thor warns, glancing over at Sam.

“And rude.” Darcy adds, giving in and shoving at him to get past. He shuffles to the side, raising his hands as he smiles with amusement.

It is too fucking early for amusement.

“Darcy, do not tase Sam Wilson. Perhaps he was raised in a barn.” Thor attempts to edge around Tony. “And this kitchen is not appropriately sized for our party.”

“What is going on?” Jane’s zombie voice demands as Darcy finally reaches the coffee pot. “Why are you in the coffee zone? Why is this happening?”

“It’s okay Janie, here we go.” Darcy shoves a mug into her friend’s hand and takes the nearly full carafe with her.

“He’s supposed to be Captain America’s friend.” Jane says, already slurping.

“Truth, justice and coffee my ass.” Darcy edges back past Sam.

“Hey, you can’t take the entire coffee pot!” Tony says.

“These mugs are not appropriately sized for our party.” Darcy tells him, snagging a strawberry pop-tart from Thor’s stack.

Clint flat out laughs now, his shoulders shaking. His eyes are alert, snapping with good humor. Darcy glares at him and with Jane, begins to shuffle away. These people obviously have no respect for other people’s mornings.

“You hear that Tony? Your things aren’t big enough.” Clint says.

Darcy steadies Jane when she trips over the back of Pepper’s bar stool, even as Steve reaches out and does the same.

Steve. Darcy shudders. Last night Tony had made a joke about Steve running at dawn.

Running. At dawn.

She braces her hand on Bucky’s shoulder as she passes him, because she has to step over a pile of shoes near the door. Running shoes.

Sweet Frigga, more of them run. It’s a cult group activity.

Later, when she feels capable of thinking about such depravity, she’ll have to come up with a plan for shoving Jane out the door with them. Sister had run cross country in high school and college and could lace up her trainers and run a mile still half asleep. And was usually better for it, inexplicably.

Jane said it had always cleared her head, but Darcy still isn’t convinced it isn’t some leftover dark juju from the aether.

“Thor, I’m scheming and I need your assistance!” She yells over her shoulder, glancing down in surprise when a hand catches hers, further steadying her.

Erm. Does Bucky know how much game he has? And how little self control Darcy has? Because she is literally one smirky little smile away from embarrassing unrequited crush.

She meets Bucky’s fuck-delicious blue eyes. His lips twitch, almost an almost smirk.

Damn. She didn’t even need the smirk.

Darcy waits until she’s collapsed on her bed with Jane, music on just in case super hearing is a thing, to confess that she’s easy.

“If this has something to do with Barnes, no one could blame you.” Jane says into a pillow.

Darcy reaches for more coffee. Her muscles are sore from her climb with Clint. Fucker had crawled all over that cliff face like a hyper spider monkey while Darcy made steady progress. “Right?”


	9. Chapter 9

Sam, Clint and Jane like burnt hot dogs. 

Thor tries them, because Jane likes them. 

Thor learns he does not like burnt hot dogs. 

“You weren’t even supposed to get the suit out unless there was an emergency.” Pepper says, and Bucky edges further away from where Tony is attempting to talk her out of her bad mood.

Watching Clint and Tony attempt to cook the hotdogs with Tony’s repulsors had been funny - but obviously doomed to failure. 

Clint had just grinned down at the blackened hot dogs. Tony had decided they should have tried it with half the dogs the first time.

The hot dogs actually audibly crunch. Jane sits nearby on the patio wall, her legs swinging as she eats her mustard slathered dog. 

“How many poptarts do you guys go through a day?” Steve asks, eyes on Thor who had decided to defensively clean his palette after sampling Jane’s hot dog. This one is not chocolate. Bucky had learned that the poptart yesterday had been their last chocolate poptart. This poptart has blue frosting and purple crystals, with red filling.

“About two boxes.” Jane answers, wiping her fingers on a paper napkin. “Wait, what’s a day? Are we talking twenty-four hour periods, or do they start when we wake up and end when we go to sleep?”

“I think once you pass the one box mark, it doesn’t matter.” Sam says. 

“We like pop-tarts.” Wanda says.

“Pop-tarts are an everyone food.” Thor states seriously. 

“Yesterday was my first pop-tart. The chocolate was good. I don’t know about the fruit ones. Doesn’t seem right.” Bucky tells them, wondering what the crystals are made of. Sugar?

Thor thrusts his half eaten pop-tart towards Bucky, and refuses to take no for an answer. Eating with six people watching him closely is strange, and Steve’s lips twitch.

It doesn’t end there though. Thor brings him a packet of frosted strawberry poptarts that night, claiming they are his favorite. He also gives him a packet from Jane, her favorite, brown sugar cinnamon. Tony chucks a box of unfrosted blueberry at his head and says nothing. Darcy gives him a packet of chocolate strawberry, which are stamped all over with ‘limited edition’ which might explain the meaningful look she gives him. 

He finds a packet outside his bedroom door of hot fudge sundae pop-tarts, and when he’s pouring milk over his cereal Wanda slides a packet of Boo Berry pop-tarts to him.

“Tell no one.” She says, slipping out of the room. Given how Tony likes to call Wanda Spooky, he can understand why she doesn’t want the other man to know of her preference. When he eats it, he finds the sprinkles are ghost shaped. 

He doesn’t tell anyone about the pile of shiny pop-tart packets on the dresser in his room, but it makes him smile every time he sees it. 

Something else that makes him smile is watching Darcy defend her wing. The presents she’d called about that first day were inflatable pool floats in Avengers theme. There is a large round one that is Steve’s shield, large enough to fit three people comfortably. The second one is Falcon’s wings, each wing capable of supporting one lounging person. Darcy had laid claim to the left wing, and defended her perch valiantly.

Clint had taken it as a personal challenge. 

After an impressive battle, Darcy won. Clint had planned poorly. At the time of his attack, Pietro had been sprawled on the right wing with an arm slung over his eyes, possibly napping. Given Clint and Pietro’s ongoing feud, it is not surprising the Sokovian quickly allied himself with Darcy. 

As soon as Clint gave up, Darcy abandoned her wing and swam to shore.

“Really?” Clint asks, panting on his beach towel.

Darcy flounces past, and Bucky can’t help but enjoy the view. People could say the modern standard of beauty was slim lines, sharp angles, and athletic forms, but Bucky would bet there wasn’t a place Darcy went that eyes didn’t follow those curves. 

At the large red beach blanket, Darcy drops to her knees and digs in the cooler, pulling out a bowl of strawberries and a bottle of water. Pepper, who Bucky had thought was sleeping this entire time, rolls over and shades her eyes with her hand.

“Darcy.”

“You want something?” Darcy pauses with the cooler partially open. 

“Jane. And you.” Pepper responds promptly. Bucky couldn’t help but admire her boldness, and shifts in his chair slightly to get a better view. 

Darcy lets the cooler lid fall shut and settles on the blanket, popping the lid off the strawberries. “You know my position on leaving Jane. So this’ll be something you have to talk to Jane about.”

Bucky and Pepper both glance over towards the astrophysicist. She’s drawing equations in the sand with a stick, sometimes muttering to herself, other times arguing with Tony and Bruce as they all pick their way through the maze of her carvings.

“Jane doesn’t seem interested.” Pepper admits. “If she would tell me what part of the contract she doesn’t agree with, I’d be happy to negotiate terms.”

Darcy pops a berry into her mouth and shrugs. “I wish you luck.”

Pepper seems to appreciate Darcy’s loyalty. She smiles. “Do you know of a way I could get her to discuss terms? I’ve tried emailing her and talking to her on the phone. I don’t want to intrude on her personal time here, but I would be happy to set up a meeting at some point in future.”

“Jane doesn’t read her emails.” Darcy states plainly. “Do you call her at the lab?”

“It would be inappropriate to use my connection to Thor to call her on her personal phone.” 

Darcy laughs. Then she laughs again, holding up red stained fingers. “Wait, wait, wait. How many offers have you made her?”

“Seventeen.”

Darcy laughs again. “Jane doesn’t read her emails. And she doesn’t stop working when she’s in the lab. Watch.”

“Hey, Jane! Do you want to leave here and get paid to spend the rest of the day on a yacht? It’ll probably be enough for a car that has fully functioning brakes.”

“Huh?” Jane rolls her shoulders. “Darce, that sounds like a bad idea.”

“Jane, what if we stayed here and scienced but the beach is on fire?”

“Yeah, Darce. Whatever. I just need to finish this.” Jane mutters.

“Jane, I stole a penguin and he’s going to live here with us in our new sand lab.”

“Okay, Darce. Sounds good.”

Darcy grins at Pepper. “She’ll just say whatever it takes to get you to leave her alone. It’s actually a lot like a sleep talker. There’s only one non-science cure.”

She turns back towards the scientists. “Jane, Thor something-something-something.”

Jane mumbles but picks her head up to look around. Thor, Natasha, Clint and Pietro are now battling over the wings float. 

“So she hasn’t actually said anything is wrong with the offers you’ve sent?” Darcy asks Pepper. Pepper shakes her head. “Okay. How about I see if she wants to spend her lunch break Wednesday with you to talk it over? It will be good to have a solid reason to need to haul her out of the lab.”

“I could make that work.”

Darcy puts the strawberries away, then grabs a towel. Bucky tries not to be too obvious about watching her, so he turns his attention to the water fight. Clint had once again chosen poorly and had teamed up with Thor against Natasha and Pietro. They’re holding their own, but it’s only a matter of time before Wanda lends her brother aid. 

Then Bucky is distracted, because he hears sound directly behind him.

Darcy has laid her towel out, and lays on her stomach, a paperback book in hand. She looks up at him, her entire body shaded by his shadow. “Don’t move. We forgot the umbrella.”

He hears nothing more than the flipping of the pages of her book for an hour, until Natasha and Steve approach.

“That seat is reserved for Steve.” Darcy’s voice says as Natasha reaches the chair next to Bucky. 

Natasha’s brow quirks upwards and she leans to the side to look around Bucky.

“For shade purposes. Someone with crazy big shoulders. And Thor is busy being ridiculously romantic and sweeter than a box of kittens with Jane over there, so.”

They all turn to look towards Jane’s stretch of beach. She is perched on Thor’s shoulders, directing him in between taking pictures of her equations with her phone. The equations stretch on and on, and Thor patiently and carefully picks his way through them. 

“PS, pretty sure Tony and Pepper are getting it on over there in the palm trees, and by pretty sure, I mean they are, and I smell fire. Thor and Jane are within sight, so it’s not my problem. Just a heads up.”

Sam smiles down at her, stepping around Bucky’s chair. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Dude, I’ve put out an average of two fires a week for the past four years. Trust me. Hey, you’ve actually got pretty good shoulders. You also can be my supplemental umbrella.” 

There’s a muffled boom, then laughter.

“Someone was mixing combustibles.” Darcy sings, turning another page in her book. 

Sam and Steve shove at each other, but Sam’s willing to play dirty and manages to collapse into the lawn chair next to Bucky. He clings to the arm rests without shame.

“Sa-weet.” Darcy says, and Bucky sees another beach towel get thrown out and she sprawls into her expanded shade.

“Better go handle that Steve.” Sam says, still clinging.

“Yeah, Steven. Cause if I know my flammable liquids, that fire is about to get a lot bigger.” Darcy says lazily. “I’m catching hints of acetone and ethanol.” 

“Hell.” Steve mutters, pivoting in the sand. 

Bucky’s lips twist, remembering a story shared over drinks. “Language,” he chides, in time for his voice to join a chorus. Steve shakes his head, but Bucky knows him well enough to tell that he’s smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

It is a good night. Steve knows it is, even if it’s not the team bonding he’d pictured. Sam, Clint and Pietro are bickering as they lean against the patio wall. Pepper is in Tony’s lap. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen the woman so relaxed as she is now. 

She is curled into Tony, one hand playing with a button on his shirt, her lips curved as Bruce talks to the couple. She holds a glass of wine in her other hand, and Tony looks... content. 

Jane is telling Wanda about the stars. The astrophysicist is animated, and Wanda is absorbed. Thor leans back in his seat next to Jane, watching her with a small smile. Darcy sits next to Wanda and keeps leaning in, whispering things that make Wanda smile and Jane object with good-natured indignation. 

Steve is ninety percent sure that Thor is drunk. He’d been drinking mead he’d brought while manning the grill after declaring himself quite skilled in roasting meats. 

Steve would pay more attention to the conversations going on around him, especially the one between Natasha and Bucky, but Natasha’s knee is touching his. Bucky sits across from him, arms folded on the table, nursing a bottle of beer. Natasha sits next to Steve, holding her own bottle, and under the table, her knee presses lightly against his. 

The only thing that really finds its way through the fog that has filled his brain is when Bucky tips his head forward, scratching at the back of his neck as he turns his head to the side. Steve has seen that move a hundred times, and probably a hundred more.

Steve reaches for another beer in the bucket of ice on the table, giving him an easy excuse to look down the table. He knows Buck would never go after a girl who is taken, at least not the way Jane and Pepper are taken. Happily, completely.

So it is either Wanda or Darcy that had earned the discreet scoping out. Darcy is laughing as Jane halfheartedly smacks at her arm. Her cheeks are flushed. She’s loud, brash, unpredictable, and an instigator. Not Bucky’s type, back in the day. He’d gone for sweet, pretty, and up for a good time. A dame ready to let loose if he could tempt her to. Who would be happy to let go for one night, then return to her much more respectable existence with happy memories.

Steve can’t even begin to guess at the type of dame Wanda is. What she’d be like out on a date. He’s never even seen a genuine smile before this trip. Sometimes Pietro orbits her, but sometimes she orbits her brother. So it is easier to imagine Wanda orbiting Bucky, the way Buck’s girls used to. But she doesn’t have any of the light. 

Then again, Buck isn’t the same. His years as the Winter Soldier had changed him. Steve used to think eventually Bucky would find a girl that was sweet enough he’d have to keep her. Part of Steve would still like that to happen. Someone sweet and soft, a woman as pretty as she is kind to make a home for Bucky.

He moves before he realizes he intends to, pressing his knee more firmly against Natasha’s. Seeking... something as he acknowledges that the old dream - Bucky at home with a wife and a couple kids and Steve showing up for Sunday dinners and maybe there’s an upright piano, it’s gone. He pushes hard, harder than he should. Needing something immovable, something to stand firm when everything shifts like wet sand under his feet. And Natasha pushes back, not giving a centimeter.

Her expression and posture betrays nothing. Bucky is still talking to her, something about some European city. Then she lifts her hand, her fingertips brushing softly against Steve’s forearm. Bucky’s eyes track the movement, then Natasha’s hand returns to her beer, and Bucky raises his brows as she disagrees with him about vodka, and Steve relishes the fog, the jumble of voices around him, and her knee against his.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know enough about stars to know I don't know much. The Science in this fic is not in any way accurate or even plausible, just in case you hadn't noticed yet.

He is congratulating himself on sneaking out of a house filled with enhanced fighters and spies, when he trips over something on the beach.

Bucky twists, attempting to regain his balance while reaching for his knife. The lump screeches, flailing underneath him. He ends up balanced on the balls of his feet, holding his knife. She ends up standing in her sleeping bag, holding it to her chest as she searches the sand, edging towards him.

“Holy hell.” Darcy gasps. “I thought you were a crab.”

“A crab.” He repeats, not quite able to help himself.

“They’re like crunchy sand spiders.” She shudders, bumping into his arm. “Did you know people eat them? But then again, Bear Grylls eats spiders. Oh, damn. Have you eaten a spider? Conveniently ignoring that whole average person has eaten eight spiders in their sleep thing. Have you wakefully and intentionally eaten a spider?”

“Doll.” He says, because she’d ducked under his arm now, so she stands with her back against him, still scanning the beach. Ignoring the knife in his hand.

“I know it would have been for survival, and I’m really glad you’re here Barnes. But I don’t know if I can get over intentionally eating spiders. I might have to stop imagining kissing you.”

“Now that would be a shame.”

“It really, really would.” She agrees, as he works his jaw, wondering where the words came from even as he feels something loosening in his chest. “So, what’s the verdict pal?”

“You think you can trust me to tell the truth now that those lips are on the line?” He asks, lowering the arm holding the knife.

She huffs and waddles away, her movements made awkward by being constrained by the sleeping bag. His eyes have adjusted to the darkness now, and he can see the evidence in the sand of her meager campsite.

A blanket is tossed over a tarp. A pillow. A flashlight, a thermos, and a canvas bag.

She kind of tips over, then kicks her feet until the sleeping bag mostly falls into place around her. “Now you have to sit with me and watch for crabs. It took me forever to fall asleep. I kept thinking I could hear one.”

“What does a crab sound like?” Bucky asks.

“How should I know?” She punches her pillow twice, then turns on her side, peering up at him. “Sit down, Barnes. Is this any way to treat a lady?”

“You’re not like any lady I ever met.” He moves close enough to sit down on one corner of the blanket. He winces then, and tries to think of a way to take that back. Not his smoothest moment.

“I’m the ladiest lady who ever ladied.” She says. “Are you saying I’m not a lady? Take it back before I fucking tase you.”

She’s fighting a smile, and Bucky laughs. He can’t help it. “I don’t have to take it back, because I didn’t mean it in the first place.”

“Meh. I can rock a dress sometimes, but I’m not too ladylike. Just ask my grandma.” She drags the canvas bag closer and her hand disappears inside. Bucky considers going on alert, and disregards it. It feels good. “You want a drink?”

She takes a long drink from a flask, then holds it out to him. He takes it, even if it takes a lot of work to get drunk now.

He nearly coughs when he swallows, and she laughs.

“It’s moonshine. Even Thor can get drunk off it.” Her head jerks to the side. “Did you hear that? Kind of like a clicking? I think crabs would click.”

“I don’t think crabs would click. Why are you sleeping out here if you’re so worried about crabs?” Bucky takes another sip from the flask, relishing the burn this time.

“Because I wanted to sleep on the beach. I mean, look at the stars. Fuck crabs.” She waves a hand up towards the sky, but scans the beach around them again.

“Did you like the stars before you met Jane?” Bucky asks curiously. He knows Darcy Lewis on paper. Age twenty-five, degree in political science from Culver University. Interned with Dr. Foster four years ago, which had been flagged as suspicious because it was completely unrelated to her degree. She’d met Thor when he first came to earth.

“Yep. There were two internships that sounded cool. Jane’s with the stars, and stalagmite mapping with Dr. Hamish.” Darcy tips her head back. “But I always liked the stars. My grandpa was an illustrator, and he did the illustrations for a book of the myths of the constellations. It was my favorite book, growing up. So I mean, I was cool with the stars. For six credits.”

“But you got your credits.”

She smiles and accepts her flask back, leaning up on one elbow. The front of her shirt dips, and for a second his eyes dip to the cleavage on display. “I want Jane to live. And the stars just keep getting cooler. I mean, how could they not, now that we know there are even more of them?”

“It doesn’t scare you?” He’d seen the footage of the Chitauri battle in New York. All he could think was thank fuck he’d broke programming, because Steve is stupid punk that needs someone who knows him on his six.

Some of the light fades from her eyes, and Bucky wishes he hadn’t asked. He’d rather talk about the magic of the stars with her.

She turns onto her back, so she’s looking up at the night sky. “Well, the dark elves sucked. A lot. I still have nightmares, and Thor says there are more races out there like that. Or species? I’m not sure how they would prefer to be identified. But there are more like us. Like Thor. Plus, maybe we just met the bad portion. Maybe there are nice Dark Elves and Chitauri, right? Who were eating their dinner when they heard what the assholes did and were like fucking hell, why? Like what if Rush Limbaugh was our first contact with some other planet? Damn.”

“That’s an optimistic view.”

“Not really. I mean, the human race has Hydra and the people who did the Tuskegee Study and a hundred other evil, awful things. But we have good people too, we always try to fight the evil.” She shrugs her shoulder. “That has to count for something.”

She takes another drink from the flask. “Did you know Odin called Jane a goat? What an asshole, right?”

“Thor’s dad.”

“Yep. Thor says he’s a good guy though, just really angry right now.” She holds out the flask without look at him. “I mean, you heard about Loki right, Thor’s brother? And now Thor is saying he doesn’t want the crown right now, and he wants to live on Midgard. That’s Earth.”

“How many are there? There’s Asgard, Midgard.”

“There are technically nine realms, but that’s kind of up for debate. I mean, the Chitauri are not from a realm, and maybe that’s why they were so angry? No taxation without representation, yo. I don’t actually know if they’re taxed.” She points upwards with one hand. “Do you see Cassiopeia? Right next to that you can kind of see a tiny little star. That’s actually Nidavellir. They look the closest to us, but are actually the farthest.”

“What are the others?”

“Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Midgard, Jotunheim, Svartalfheim, Nidavellir, Niflheim, and Muspelheim.” She lists off, nodding with each realm named.

Bucky looks up at the sky, his eyes cataloging all of the different pricks of light. He suddenly wants to see Nidavellir. But he doesn’t know what Cassiopeia is. He’d never learned the stars, not even the North Star. St. Anns’s had made sure he could list off the planets, but apparently even that has changed and Pluto is something else now.

“Which one is Nidavellir?” He asks, his voice slightly gruff. It’s just that imagine nine realms out there makes him feel very small. It’s terrifying, but in the same way, comforting.

He searches the sky, without a clue of what he should be looking for. After a minute, he realizes she hasn’t answered. He looks down to find her staring back at him. After a second she holds out her hand.

“C’mere, Barnes. You’ll have to lay next to me to see where I’m pointing.”

Desire to see this point in the sky, something that is out there, fixed is part of what has him crossing the blanket. The other part is who he used to be. The Bucky Barnes who had walked through Brooklyn looking for a good time, who had wrapped his arm around a dame’s shoulder easily.

They’re close enough that their shoulders touch, and she leans even closer, extending an arm upwards and tilting her head in towards him so they have the same point of reference.

She explains what Cassiopeia is, and then points to a very faint star next to it.

They pass the flask back and forth, and she talks about the myths. Human ones. She eventually unzips her sleeping bag and tosses part of it over him. “I expect you to protect me from the sand spiders now that I can’t fold this shut to seal them out.”

“Seal a sleeping bag?” He flips the edge up to examine it.

“Shut up Buckaroo, it’s totally a thing.”

“Buckaroo?” He turns to look at her, highly amused.

“I might be a little buzzed.” She smiles. Her eyes flick down to his lips, and Bucky feels a familiar curl of heat and anticipation in his stomach. “There!”

She smacks a hand against his stomach.

“Did you hear it? The clicking?”

“That’s a bird.”

“Oh.” She relaxes back against her pillow again and closes her eyes. “Me and birds are cool. Other than Clint, that wing-coveting jackass.”

He wakes up under attack, his entire body jerking to wakefulness and on full alert.

He remembers where he is, and who he is with thirty seconds later, and relief floods him that his flesh arm is clamped around her, holding her to him.

She doesn’t seem aware of his dangerous reaction to her rolling on top of him. One of her hands is a fist in his t-shirt, the other holds her edge of the sleeping bag closed.

“Oh, man.” She breathes. “He’s kinda creepy but maybe kind of cute?”

Bucky turns his head to the side to see a gray blue crab the size of a half dollar. It’s a foot away from the edge of their blanket.

It tilts to one side, as if in hesitation.

“Getting more cute. Maybe they aren’t sand spiders?” She braces against him to raise up a little. The crab dives into the sand and for several inches they can trace its path by a line of sand that is disturbed from below. “Oh, fuck no.”

She’s scrambling against him, a stream of no coming out of her mouth.

Bucky stands before he finds himself kneed, holding her against his chest. She wraps her legs around his waist despite the sleeping bag wadded between them.

“Creepy as fuck. Holy hell. Bucky, inside.” She clings to his shoulders, searching the sand lit by the dawn sunlight for any evidence of their friend. “Take me inside. I did it, I spent the night on the beach, but nope. All of the nope, Bucky.”

“Alright, doll.” Bucky says, but he’s kind of a fan of the crab now. He adjusts his grip, unable to stop himself from appreciating the fact that he’s got his arms full of woman. His lips twitch. “Is that another one?”

She scrambles against him, pulling herself closer and tighter. He can’t help but laugh and after a second she smacks his chest. “You’re a smooth jerk, Barnes.”

“Hey, hey, hey. What happened to calling me Bucky?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get me to the house.” She resituates against him. Wiggles a little closer, moves her arm so it’s curled easily around his shoulder. “Sorry I’m groping you.”

“Trust me, beautiful. You can grope me anytime.”

She leans back as he reaches the patio, her eyes narrowed. He wonders if he’d gone too far. But her lips are curved, and her eyes flick down to his. “Bucky, you better make good on all this grade A number one flirting and kiss me once I don’t have sand in places we aren’t close enough to talk about yet and I’ve brushed my teeth.”

Something goes tight inside Bucky, and he teeters on the edge of withdrawing, panicking. Or sticking with it, staying him. He’s tired of losing his place in the world. More, he likes this dame.

“Sweetheart, it’s a promise.”

She grins and twists around to slide open the patio door before he can do it himself. Like she thinks he needs both hands to hold her. Bucky thinks of showing off, and maybe getting that kiss because he doesn’t care about non-mint flavored kisses, but he stops short in the living room.

“Hell.” Darcy says sourly. “Who fucking gave her a pen?”

Jane sits on the floor, surrounded by what looked to be paper towels. Paper towels covered in writing. The astrophysicist obviously hadn’t slept, she has dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is a tangled mess.

“Jane.” Darcy says, wiggling against Bucky in a request to be put down. “Jane, it’s time to catch a nap so you can function in the lab later. We’re leaving in four hours, remember?”

“Bad idea, Darcy.” Jane mumbles. “Gotta finish this, I’m onto something. You do it.”

“Nope, I’ll organize everything here. Come on, let’s go.” Darcy tip toes through the notes, careful not to disturb anything.

“Darcy, you should go get us coffee. And maybe some of those kebobs from the food truck.”

“Hey crazy lady, we’re not in the lab anymore.” Darcy pries the pen from Jane’s hand and the scientist finally tears her eyes away from her notes.

“Darcy! I have to finish that!” Jane blinks and looks around the room. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to sleep. I’ll go through all this and sort it so it’s ready when we leave. _In four hours_.” Darcy says, catching Jane’s hands as she reaches for her notes. “Bucky, can I get an assist here? Maybe you could put her in my bed where I can keep an eye on her.”

“Darcy, no. No no no, I’m onto something here. Look, look at these formulas.” Jane holds up a paper towel, and when Darcy doesn’t look, she turns it so Bucky can see. There’s a lot of tiny cramped writing, letters and numbers. Some arrows, and an orange stain. And behind it, an obviously exhausted woman.

Bucky follows Darcy’s path through the room. He reaches down, taking Jane’s arms. He moves slowly, so she has time to object. Flinch. Dart away from him.

“No, no. Bucky? I know, you could help!” Jane grabs his hand, tries to tug him down onto the floor next to her. “You like the stars, don’t you? Of course you do, look at this.”

Bucky picks her up, and she makes a sad sound.

“Bucky, don’t you see how close I am?” Jane asks him, her fingers curling around the collar of his t-shirt. Her tone is sad and defeated. “I figured out what I was doing wrong, and now-“

“Now you’re going to have an awesome time in Tony’s sweet, sweet cave lab.” Darcy interrupts, rubbing Jane’s back and turning to lead Bucky down the hallway. He knows which room she’s in. Just like Natasha and Clint, he’d had to know.

The room is a mess. Clothes thrown everywhere, there’s a piñata for some reason, and how many damn pairs of shoes did she bring for a two week vacation at a secluded island?

Darcy darts ahead and pulls back the covers on the rumpled bed.

Bucky isn’t sure how she’s planning on keeping Jane in the bed after he lets the woman go, but the second he lays Jane down, she rolls onto her side and snuggles into the mattress.

Darcy pulls the covers over Jane like this is completely normal. “So, I’m gonna take a shower. Protecting me from the sand spiders totally makes up for you almost rearranging my ribs with your foot. Since that’s even Stevens, I totally expect you to keep your promise.”

“Your ribs?”

“The promise that you made? The kiss promise? The promise where you’re going to kiss me?” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Shit. Are you okay? I didn’t even think.”

“Eh. I’ve got two days in the lab to take it easy.” Her head cocks to the side, wide blue eyes studying him like they miss nothing. Suddenly, she goes to her tip toes and kisses his cheek. “Don’t look so worried. I’m fine. Now get out of here so I can shower. I’m a lady, remember?”

He hesitates for a second longer. His boots are heavy, he’s heavy, and she’s small. But she’s smiling up at him, teasing him. So he gives himself a mental shake and smiles back. “Of course, madam.”

She flicks her fingers at him and he dodges on his way to the door. When he looks back she’s digging in a large purple duffel bag and Jane is dead to the world, pushing her face into Darcy’s pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

Clint sits at the kitchen island, watching Thor move through the kitchen. The other man isn’t the biggest man Clint’s ever met – Clint did grow up on the carnie circuit. But Thor is pretty close at six-three with shoulders that would give most linebackers superiority complexes.

The kitchen isn’t small. It’s not the large open spaces they are used to back at the tower, but it’s definitely not small by most people’s standards. There are parts of it that are cramped, over near the oven and between the galley counter and the sink. So it’s amusing to watch Thor navigate.

Also, Clint is waiting for toast time. Watching Thor make toast while humming Mission Impossible might get old someday, but it hasn’t yet.

Plus, the house is quiet and boring. With the science crew gone for a lab field trip, things had really mellowed out. Mellow is awesome, for like ten minutes. Maybe fifteen if it’s been a shitty day. Plus, Sam had planned a campout up on the mountain last night.

Clint has spent enough nights outside involuntarily for a job that he’s no fucking idiot. Camping is for fools and nature freaks.

He’s not really that surprised that Cap was game, or that Barnes had gone along. He’s still scratching his head over Wanda though. _Wanda_.

She fucks with his head even when she isn’t fucking with his head. Damn it. How the hell is he supposed to get a handle on this when she keeps pulling this shit? He’d decided to figure her out months ago, and he’s still spinning his wheels. Months of careful observation, and he’s clueless.

She’s a picky eater, mostly sticking to chicken or beef with very little seasoning. No fish. Other than fucking octopus, apparently. She drinks decaffeinated tea almost exclusively, and sometimes water. Oh, and triple-shot shamrock lattes.

She dislikes watching television, and had even moved the one from her suite back at base out into the hallway. But she’s been the first one on the couch when Darcy announces she’s starting a movie or show in the living room.

She’s impassive, like Nat. Impossible to read, hiding every emotion as she studies everyone and every thing. But then she drops her mask, most often after turning to face her brother, and then she’s an open book. Letting every one see her wide smiles, the way her nose scrunches up when she laughs.

She’s sullen and angry, and her past weighs on her with every breath. Then she’s running down the hallway in her socks, launching herself into the pile of pillows Sam and Pietro had made.

SALT! She hates salty foods, to the point that most take-out makes her lips twitch in distaste before she pushes her tray away. But she eats miso soup by the damn gallon.

Thor’s sudden humming breaks into Clint’s distracted musing (again! Damn it!), and Clint shifts glancing down at his mug. When the helicopter had arrived yesterday to pick up the science crew, they’d dropped off more supplies which had inlcuded two boxes of giant coffee mugs and a second coffee maker. Thank god.

Clint fights a grimace as he feels a now familiar rush of air, catches the slightest blur out of the corner of his eye. And then Pietro is standing in front of the coffee maker in a pair of rumpled sweat pants and no shirt.

Pietro’s increased healing ability means that all that’s left of the gunshot wounds are the slightest splotches of discolored skin. Three of the seven are so faint that they’d be easy to miss if someone didn’t know where to look.

Clint knows where to look.

“Do you think Natasha will join us?” Thor asks, hesitating with two last pieces of bread.

“Yes.” Natasha answers, sailing into the room in a pair of black yoga pants and a matching black tank top. Her hair is damp from the shower, and Clint knows she’s already put in a morning work out.

Clint had skipped his run. His normal running partners, the soldiers, had all been gone communing with nature. And his new running partner, Dr. Foster, had decamped for Science. Running alone sucks.

Not running sucks. His muscles are tense, he feels groggy. Natasha drags a knuckle across his lower back as she passes, pressing hard enough to hurt in the way that felt good only by the slimmest of margins.

Clint looks around the kitchen and shakes his head. How the hell had they ended up here? He and Nat had been through a lot, they’d ended up in a lot of situations, and a lot of Situations.

Now they’re sitting down to breakfasts bigger than a Denny’s grand slam prepared by the God of Thunder with a Sokovian refugee that’s annoying as fuck, seems to know every time Clint’s thoughts drift towards his twin sister, and also made the asshole move of saving Clint’s life so Clint can’t even hate him properly.

Fucking hell.

“What do you put in the pancakes?” Natasha asks with a hum, dabbing at her lips with her napkin. “Nutmeg?”

Pietro makes a European sound of disagreement, but not quite the Russian nyet. “Cardamom. Clove. Ginger. Cinnamon.”

Seriously, Clint thinks dropping his head back. What the fuck?

“My shield brother is correct.” Thor booms, reaching over to clap Pietro on the back hard enough to have the twit stumbling forward.

Thor makes quick work of slicing some fruit before settling with his own plate. Clint notices the triangle oranges and waits to smirk at Nat until he gets up to get a refill on his coffee.

The science crew didn’t seem big on fresh fruit, making Clint suspect Thor hadn’t had much experience with Midgardian fruit. The god must have thought the way Steve sliced the oranges was the Midgardian way.

Which is perfect. Really makes up for having to eat breakfast with the wrong Sokovian. He loves it when Natasha is the one who has to studiously pretend to not be studiously avoiding his gaze. Which amounts to too much awkward eye contact between them as she forces it and Clint internally cackles with glee. The murdery glint that keeps getting sharper and shinier in her eyes only makes it better.

Hell, it’s like Nepal all over again. Only not, because it’s over a crush. Natasha has a crush.

It’s adorable.

Her fingers tighten on her knife and Clint blinks cockily at her. Her lips tighten. Pietro, annoying little shit that he is, is actually pretty good at picking up nuances, and looks between Clint and Natasha silently. He also moves his shoulder out of potential knife pathways.

The tinny sound of thunder crashing on a tiny speaker breaks up Clint’s victory eyebrow twitch. Thor digs his phone out of his pocket and makes a pleased humming sound of surprise.

Everyone turns to look at him because, as Clint noted earlier, fuck all is going on at Casa de Island Avengers with the currently decreased number of residents. This is it. What they have for entertainment.

All Clint can think is thank god it’s Thor they got left with. If it had been anyone else of the non-science crew, Clint would probably have just gone back to bed. (Unless it was Wanda.) Fuck.

Thor chews quickly and swallows hard. “The greatest of news, friends!”

Clint perks up.

“Lady Darcy has procured us a ten slice toaster!” Thor declares, then squints at his screen. “Nay! She has built us one. It makes rainbow sparks!”

Thor smiles happily at his screen, somehow managing to type a response with a speed not known to many Earthlings. (Cap and Bruce included.)

The thunder crashes again and Thor laughs in delight. “A video! And my Jane is in it!”

Clint would like to say he went mountain climbing off the cliff face a mile away, and then stole Tony’s sailboat.

But there is three hours worth of stupid-face making, armpit-fart competition, Cheerio nose balancing evidence that he crashed on the couch with the wrong Sokovian, Natasha and Thor and snap chatted the scientists.


	13. Chapter 13

Bucky only feels a little bad that he had such a great time on the hike. Steve had born the brunt of the others’ frustration, and unlike their time with the Howling Commandos, Bucky doesn’t feel the need to help even things out. That had been war, this is a camp out on a private island. These idiots chose this fate.

So Wanda and Sam complain and grumble and glare at Steve, and Bucky revels in the fact that he is impervious to the so-called ‘mutant mosquitoes’ (Wilson isn’t this much of a wimp in the field, thank God) while Steve’s enjoyment of the same super soldier perks is mostly overwhelmed by guilt.

Watching Wanda zap those tiny fuckers? Almost makes the night. What actually makes the night for Bucky isn’t the foil cooked potatoes Sam and Steve bury in the fire, or the spiked hot cocoa Sam makes. It’s when Bucky is laying on his back in his sleeping bag, and in between the red flashes to his left that incinerate bugs, the wispy white clouds clear and Bucky thinks he manages to pick out Nidavellir. 

It’s a very unimpressive pinprick in the sky, a little gauzy compared to some of the brighter, more piercing stars. But Bucky really likes Nidavellir. It puts weight in his boots and holds him to the ground here on the mountain. He’s not lost in a sea of blurred memories, half remembered languages, and countries he shouldn’t know the feel of.

It makes no sense. The world is too big, and his head with it. He can get lost there. Why should the reminder that the universe is actually larger than he’d ever imagined anchor him instead of sending him off spinning into the abyss that he’s so certain waits in the back of his mind?

But he can see Nidavellir, and Wanda keeps zapping the mosquitoes, and when she starts zapping the ones hovering over Sam, the man starts a mumbled stream of trash talk at the insects that makes Steve chuckle.

And he’s completely certain of his place. He’s on this mountain, in a comfy light weight sleeping bag, listening to Sam and Wanda bitch about bug bites and itching, with Steve within arm’s reach, looking up at another realm he’d been shown by a gorgeous dame with red lips and bright eyes who wanted him to kiss her.

See, he really likes feeling anchored again. Because with those heavy boots comes this light feeling in his chest, this feeling of anticipation. His brain doesn’t remind him how large of a shard of the vase in the corner he’d need to slice Barton’s neck open, instead it follows Clint’s conversation, providing prompts that when Bucky manages to get them out, make the others laugh. Make Steve’s expression lighter. 

Make Darcy’s lips twitch as she ducks her chin. Jesus fuck, he’d felt like a damn kid during breakfast before the science crew had all left. She’d kept darting glances at him from her place on the couch. Her hands had been buried in Wanda’s hair, weaving it into some complicated braid the other girl had pet admiringly, but Darcy had kept shooting him these flirty glances. 

He likes the familiar groove he can sometimes fall into with Steve, he likes the smart ass remarks Pietro tosses out, he likes Nidavellir unmoving in the sky, he likes Darcy, and he especially likes feeling like Bucky Barnes again.


	14. Chapter 14

Darcy shuffles through the hallway, one hand up to shield her face from the sun. When she’d joked that Tony had a cave lab, she’d been teasing. 

But the helicopter had brought them to a cliff face, and set within, hidden by kick-ass camouflage shielding technology is a cave lair complete with three bedrooms of living space. It’s a little opulent for Darcy to consider it a legit cave lair, but what can you really expect with Tony Stark?

Pepper and Tony had taken the master bedroom, because of course the cave lair has a master bedroom, Bruce had taken the middle room, and Darcy and Jane share the last room. 

Jane had tried to wake Darcy for morning yoga. Darcy feels bad about punching her, but really. They’ve been together for years, it really had seemed more likely that Jane was a plant than that Jane had suddenly thought Darcy would want to bend herself into a pretzel with Pepper and Bruce in the morning.

Darcy finds Tony sitting in the kitchen with a small piece of flaming metal in front of him. He looks up and his eyes narrow. 

Darcy ignores him and looks for the coffee pot. 

“Don’t tell Pep.” Tony says as she passes him.

“Coffee.” Darcy responds. 

“J, give the lady coffee. The good kind.”

Darcy watches as dark brown liquid pours into a large black mug. The smell hits her a second later. Aw yeah. Then milk is poured in, followed by sugar. Stark’s AI apparently knows her coffee preferences. 

After her first sip, and by sip she means gulps, she turns to face the billionaire. “Are you bribing me with superior coffee? If so, please continue, it’s working.”

“C’mere and hold this.” He says, grinning.

“Not until after I get my second cup.” Darcy tells him, and behind her she hears the coffee start pouring again. She turns, wishing she hadn’t missed the new mug being put into place. Did it drop down from above, or slide out of a panel? 

She tosses back the rest of her first cup, snags the second and then comes to stand at Tony’s elbow. Twisting her arm, she manages to dodge the flames, though it is uncomfortably warm, and press a finger against the place he’d indicated.

His hands stop and he looks up at her. Then he frowns, eyes flicking over her pajamas. “What are you wearing?”

“Do you still need me to hold this?” Darcy asks, turning her wrist to avoid the growing flames.

He looks back down at the gadget and starts plucking at it, then solders something. Once he adjusts her grip, his ash and grease stained fingers leaving marks on her arm and the backs of her knuckles. 

“Okay.” He says, and the word sounds oddly heavy. Darcy withdraws her hand and wraps it around the other one to share the warmth. Her fingers and toes are always cold. 

Darcy goes to dig in the fridge for breakfast. Finding none of their Thai food leftovers, damn you Jane, Darcy checks the cupboards for the boxes of pop-tarts she’d stocked. 

“What are you wearing?” Tony asks again, sounding slightly more like his usual self.

“It’s Thor footie pajamas, duh.” She says, because you can’t tell her Tony Stark doesn’t know what footie pajamas are. Not after the spectacle of Left Shark, and his love of internet inanity. “The cape is super warm. Not as warm as the real thing, but still.” 

“You use Thor’s cape as a blanket?” 

“When I’m sad. Want a pop-tart? Blueberry plain, right?” She jumps to reach the second shelf and manages to knock his box down, catching it against her chest. The normal toaster is on the counter, her magical creation is down in the lab. “What do you think they had for breakfast back at the house? Thor better not have made them pancakes. Or chocolate pancakes. Or strawberry pancakes. Any pancakes at all really.”

“You’re a fan, I take it?” He’s finishes tamping out the fire and now is reclining back in his chair, watching her. 

“Totally. And french toast? If you ever really need to bribe me, that’s the money shot. Big guy just can’t master it.”

“Noted. What’s the money shot for Foster?”

Darcy turns, raising a brow. So far, it had been all Pepper on the acquire Dr. Foster express. Well, Pepper and Thor, although big guy is keeping his burning desire for Jane to accept a position with Stark Industries super on the down low anytime Jane is around. So as not to influence her or pressure her.

Darcy just wants to cover his forehead in gold stars.

Tony raises his eyebrow back. Darcy narrows her eyes. Eventually, her eyes start feeling dry, but sometimes she wears contact lenses and she was just in college with the drinking and the final exams and the bad decisions. She can handle the fuck out of dry eyes. Also, she beat Coulson in a staring contest. She powers through like a boss.

Her eyes water. His eyes water. He finally blinks with a curse and pushes his gadget away roughly. Sore loser much?

"I already built her a space lab. And Bruce likes her. And Thor, obviously.” Tony says, scowling at her.

“Jane’s moneyshot is honesty, and you have to combine that with strategy obviously. I don’t know how Pepper is with the first, but she’s been striking out on the second.”

“Stark Industries doesn’t lie. It’s kind of our thing.” 

Darcy shrugs. “Jane’s been burned before. More than once.” All of the times, actually. The academic science world is actually kind of a bitch to all scientists, but women scientists especially. 

“She has all the rights to her own work. She gets the lab, unlimited funding. Living quarters included, staffed as she chooses. SI gets to tap her for her opinion, which she can choose to offer or not.” 

Darcy digs her phone out of her back pocket and notes that it’s actually a little after noon. “Are we doing this?”

“Yep.”

Darcy quickly taps out a text to Jane, who should be sitting down with Pepper right now. Jane texts back immediately, which means Pepper has successfully pulled her out of the lab. 

“Let’s talk publishing. And media.” Darcy leans forward, keeping her phone in her lap. The texts fly back and forth rapid fire. Darcy moves on to Jane’s lab space, and reconfiguring it. Because what does Tony Stark know about how Jane likes her spaces? 

But it’s all green lights and funding and whatever you wants. No squirrely loop holes, no shitty requirements. 

Hours later, Jane offers a tentative agreement pending her reading over the contract. Darcy knows from experience that Jane will hunker down with a red pen and actually read every single word. 

“Now you.” Tony says when Darcy sets her phone aside with a sigh.

“Pretty sure I’m included in that staff provision.” 

“Jane gets a lot, but she doesn’t get to be stingy. We got her in the building, that’s what you said you needed before you’d consider a position with us.” 

“With Jane. The position was with Jane.” 

“You can’t stand there and say you don’t like me when you’re wearing Iron Man band-aids on your forehead.” He protests.

“They were the only band aids in the entire building!” Darcy defends, and reaches up to brush her fingers over the two tender spots. She hadn’t quite ducked the third explosion. “Besides, what does liking you have to do with taking a different job at SI?”

“And you gave me food!” He gestures with a piece of his blueberry pop-tart, jabbing it towards her accusingly.

“And what? Wearing Iron Man band aids and feeding Tony Stark have automatic employment consequences?” Darcy folds her arms. 

“Tony, I told you to wait for me.” Pepper practically sails into the kitchen. She’s wearing a spotless pale blue dress and black heels that snickt against the floor almost like weapons. Pepper turns to Darcy and smiles. “I’m sorry about him. Please disregard whatever he’s said to put that look on your face. Let’s talk.”

Darcy glares at Tony. Tony glares back at Darcy and taps his forehead. 

“Let’s talk elsewhere. Have you seen the sun room?” Pepper asks.

Darcy sits down, pulling her plate with her blue raspberry pop-tarts closer and flinging her cape over her shoulder so it wraps around her like a shawl. “He can leave. I’m eating breakfast.”

“Ha! It’s my kitchen. In my lab. In my cliff. On my island. In my string of islands.” Tony folds his arms and looks at her with an arch look of superiority. 

“Fine. Bruce is apparently turning on his particle accelerator any minute now, but feel free to sit here and watch me eat pop-tarts in your lab kitchen while groundbreaking science occurs in your actual lab in your cliff on your island in your string of islands.” 

Tony sneers as he stands. “Well played, Lewis.” 

Pepper gracefully takes a seat across from where Tony had been sitting, and eyes the burned spot on the table suspiciously. 

Darcy thinks she looks like a shark. The black ones that Darcy saw during Shark Week, that move through the water so smoothly it’s almost mesmerizing. There’s something sharp and predatory about business-Pepper. 

That’s okay. Darcy has sharp parts too, and she’s got a lot of practice bringing them out for Jane. Darcy smiles back at Pepper, showing off her sharp parts, and Pepper’s expression turns a little delighted.

“That wasn’t creepy. Not at all.” Tony mutters, making a quick exit. 

“The position I had in mind for you, if I could wrest you away from Dr. Foster, was lab manager of our two highest level labs.” Pepper says calmly. “Data collation, safety protocol compliance, and lab assistance as required.”

“But you can’t wrest me away from Dr. Foster.” Darcy pops the corner of her pop-tart into her mouth. 

“Well, at the time I had begun to suspect I would be unable to secure Dr. Foster for SI. Now, your position has grown to include the three highest level labs. Dr. Foster’s, Dr. Banner’s, and Tony’s. The pay has been adjusted accordingly.”

“Okay, I’m pretty up to snuff on stars, and I may have completed a mechanical engineering degree, but cellular biology? Not my thing, at all.”

“Dr. Banner has become used to working without an assistant.” Pepper’s smile becomes papery. “Even properly vetted and prepared applicants found they could not withstand the stress of working with him on a regular basis.” 

“With Bruce?” Darcy asks, because he’d been an absolute peach compared to Tony and Jane yesterday. And he’d handled the explosions just fine. 

Pepper seems to loosen up a bit. “My point is that he needs help with mostly clerical work – inputting data, proofreading, submitting work for publication if he so wishes.” 

“This might not even be worth talking about, Jane will have a counter for your contract by tomorrow.” Darcy tells her. Because while Darcy is good at her job, it’s really just cobbled together responsibilities she’s taken over. And she isn’t properly qualified for any of it, which is fine for working for Jane, but not for a huge company. 

Darcy shifts in her seat, knowing she’s got a long night ahead. Because Jane will comb through the contract like no other, but all of her slashing red marks and cramped little notes will be about the science. Darcy will comb through the contract to protect the scientist. And Darcy will be the one to submit the counter offer through Jane’s email address. 

Darcy’s dealt with enough shit, and enough shady underhanded attempts to secure and then fuck over Jane that she is immediately suspicious of any job offers for herself that are offered consecutively. Is it a distraction attempt? SHIELD had certainly attempted it. 

“And we’ll work it out. If you like, we can hire you on a trial basis. If you decide you would rather continue to only monitor Jane’s lab, you will be contractually permitted to make that decision.”

“Hm.” Darcy breaks her second pop-tart in half. “I guess I’ll think about it once we have Jane squared away.”

"Miss Lewis, Dr. Foster is distressed.” Jarvis breaks in. “I’m afraid Sir has interrupted her process.”

“Interrupted her process?” Darcy wraps her remaining pop-tart pieces into a napkin (cloth because Tony Stark) and stands. Jane does not have a process. “Did he touch something?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis.” 

“Is he okay?”

“He is threatening to call the suit.” 

Darcy sighs and looks to Pepper with a small smile. She’ll have to thank Jane for the save later. “Duty calls.” 

She leaves behind the compact but functional kitchen (it’s becoming obvious that while they fucking rock at equipping other areas of their homes, Tony and Pepper don’t have the proper respect for the cooking epicenters) and debates taking time to change into real clothes.

She learned the hard way that the cape is flammable. RIP Count Chocula jammies, RIP.

So she ducks into the room she’s sharing with Jane, hopping over their piles of stuff, and quickly yanks on some leggings and a dress, tipping over onto the bed. A superhero she is not, and leggings are hard.

She unearths a pair of boots that are actually Jane’s, but at this point all footwear is shared between the two of them with such disregard for original ownership that there is no true owner. Darcy’s favorite pair of flats that have the little cat faces on them have become Jane’s go-to lab shoes because they’re comfortable and have truly superior grip on the polished floors. 

In the labs, Bruce is at the farthest table, completely immersed in the screens in front of him. He doesn’t even look up when Darcy pats his shoulder as she passes him and moves his tea cup farther from his elbow. 

Tony is dancing around the second station they’d exploded yesterday, trying to keep at least two steps away from Jane, who is following him holding a fire extinguisher. Tony is also coated in white foam.

Darcy dives in, and the pair babble at her explaining fault and offense and guilt and blame. Darcy ends up mostly on Jane’s side, but two percent on Tony’s side because he got flame retardant foam in his eyes and they’re turning very red. 

She tries to square him away at another station, but he wants nothing to do with her, and nothing to do with Jane. 

Darcy ignores his bitching as Bruce tries to dose him with eye drops. Tony apparently wont stop blinking, and Bruce is explaining that he knows that it’s a preservation instinct, and Tony is still glaring across the lab.

But then Jane’s machines start beeping, and everyone's heads swing towards Bruce’s monitors, and they start beeping too, and all is forgotten in the name of Science!

The last explosion is the biggest. Bruce ends up in the supply closet, and Darcy ends up with Tony’s shirt wadded up and pressed to her cheek. She holds it there while Jane applies more Iron Man band aids to Tony’s face, the two of them bickering over Jarvis taking control of Jane’s machines at the end.

“Ah, but technically they’re my machines.” Tony says, then hisses when Jane slaps another band aid just along his jaw line. 

“You said they were as good as mine.” Jane reminds him, her tone biting. She’d mostly been teasing when she’d started this, Darcy could tell, but now Tony is really grating all along those little triggers and buttons Jane has. 

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” Tony manages to snag a sheet of read-outs, and Jane only twitches a little. Because these are just test numbers and they couldn’t have really run anything without all of Jane’s equipment. 

Bruce comes out and does an admirable job of stitching Darcy’s cheek up while pretending to not be reading Tony’s sheet of read-outs. Tony automatically shifts so Bruce can see, and hands Bruce things without Bruce saying anything. 

The three of them are off after that, talking over each other, mumbling to themselves, eyes gleaming. But Darcy can tell that Tony had stepped in it, that Jane is just a little more cautious than she had been. 

And adjusts the likelihood of Jane accepting SI’s offer of employment accordingly. No need to get her hopes up about staying in one place for a while, and that place having awesome eye candy, unnecessarily.


	15. Chapter 15

“How do you know how to sail?” Steve asks from his place next to Natasha. Once his heart had stopped pounding in his ears for sitting next to her. And after he finished mocking himself internally over how big of a deal it was to him. It’s just that there are plenty of seats on the boat. Sitting right next to Natasha is making a statement.

“Me or him?” Clint asks, holding onto a taut rope over his head. 

“Both.” Steve answers, shooting a look towards Bucky. 

“It was for a job. In Monte Carlo.” Clint squints as the sun comes back out from behind a cloud. He looks around, searching for his sunglasses. They float to him, engulfed by red light.

Steve can only see the other man tense because he’s looking for it. Since Clint relaxes so quickly, he hopes that Wanda didn’t see it. She’s been getting more open with her powers on this trip, and Steve thinks that’s probably a good thing. And if anything is going to happen between her and Clint, Clint will have to find a way to be good with what she can do.

“Did you sail too?” Steve asks, tipping his head towards Natasha. Her hair glows auburn in the sunlight, and his throat goes dry at how beautiful she looks when he realizes she’s looking back at him without any of her masks on. 

“I wasn’t on that job. It was before I came to SHIELD.” She says this lightly, even though the time before SHIELD is usually off limits. 

“Buck?” Steve turns to his friend, although he knows the answer. Bucky hadn’t known how to sail when he’d left Brooklyn, and they certainly hadn’t learned together during the war. 

“I learned many modes of transportation.” Bucky says, brows furrowing a little as he tries to remember. Steve searches his mind for a change of subject, but then Bucky’s lips twitch. “I can hang glide too.”

“Hang glide?” Pietro questions, standing behind Wanda. Pietro doesn’t seem the least affected by the swaying dock. Steve wonders what the other man experiences moving the way he does. Wanda is very unsteady on her feet, and before Pietro had moved to stand with her, she’d gripped the gleaming rails tightly with both hands.

Sam is the one that explains, apparently he spent months and months in all kinds of flying contraptions while training for his wings. Steve turns in his seat, his right knee pressing against Natasha’s, and scans the horizon.

Their island had long since faded into the distance. Now Steve can’t see any land. But Bucky and Clint are assured and at ease as they steer them. It’s apparently a four hour sail to Little Bay, where they’d agreed to meet the science crew for a night out.

It’s a beach town with a boardwalk, several restaurants, and a high end hotel Tony had reserved rooms at for them. 

“I should like to try this sport!” Thor declares, reaching over to brace Wanda as they crest a larger wave. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing it again.” Sam admits with a grin. “Maybe there’s a place around Little Bay. We could look into it tomorrow.”

“You should help steer.” Bucky says, looking at Wanda. “It will help. We’ve got a good couple hours left.”

She looks at him for a extended moment, as if expecting a trick. It’s a frequent reaction from the twins, and Steve knows that throughout their lives they haven’t known much kindness. 

Then she steps closer to him, accepting the steadying hand he offers. Pietro returns to the cushions on the front bow of the boat, past the cabin. 

Wanda plants her feet and tries to sway along with Bucky as he explains the basics of sailing. Bucky’s hand on her hip reminds Steve of the old days, when Bucky had won over the dames right and left. 

Clint doesn’t appear to be watching them, but Steve knows better than to believe what he thinks he sees when it comes to Clint and Natasha. 

“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?” Steve asks Natasha as he stands. Her chin dips in a small nod, perfunctory and professional, but her lips curve slightly. 

Steve ducks into the cabin and retrieves a root beer and a limoncello soda, then jogs back up the narrow stairs. 

“Okay, go check out the keel.” Bucky says, voice loud enough to carry to Steve. Juggling the drinks, Steve offers a hand to Wanda to help her towards Clint. He thinks it’s the most genuine smile he’s ever been given by the woman.

After he hands off Natasha’s drink, she turns her back to him, shifting in her seat so most of her body faces the bow. It leaves her lightly pressing against him with each sway of the boat. It’s intentional. Everything with Natasha is intentional.

Steve stares at her, the tendrils of her hair that are escaping the style she’s pinned it up into, the way her red dress contrasts with her pale skin making her look delicate. 

And he lays his arm along the railing, so it extends past her. He tells himself it’s not just his imagination that she leans against him more firmly with each wave. The sun is warm on his skin, the breeze sometimes carries the scent of her shampoo towards him which means she’s using a scented shampoo this week, and she’s practically leaning against him.

It’s the best day Steve can think of having in a long, long while.


	16. Chapter 16

Clint can’t even enjoy Cap and Natasha’s glacial pace properly, because he’s all kinds of fucked up. He’d nearly choked on his jealousy when Wanda had been listening intently to Barnes on the boat, one hand braced against the captain’s chair and the other lightly gripping Barnes’ forearm.

But then Steve had carefully handed her down towards Clint, and Wanda had turned those big gray eyes on him. He’d hardly paid attention to the words that came automatically, because his brain was cataloging the fact that she stood a full two inches closer to him than she had to Barnes. And the way she stepped between his legs to look up when he’d pointed out the jigging. That was definitely a lot closer than she’d stood to Barnes. To anyone other than her brother.

Once he’d finished babbling about everything sailing he could think of – he’s pretty sure he warned her about the dangers of sun poisoning – she stayed standing next to him, one hand on his shoulder.

But she did seem more at ease than she had been, and she followed instruction so that Clint was only watching for the last two hours. And helping when she strained. She’s not Natasha, her limbs are lithe, almost frail looking. 

She’s stronger than she looks. A hell of a lot stronger. But she’s still mostly legs and probably weighs a buck ten sopping wet. 

So Clint reaches around her and helps when she needs it, and as they glide into the bay, she leans back into the crook of his arm. And when her brother helped her off the boat and onto the dock, her eyes had flashed back at him. Holding something that looked a lot like a dare.

And now Clint is walking down the board walk as the sun sinks in the sky and strings of lights come on, eying everything except her. (Except also watching her every move, the way her hips sway, hell, the line of her legs, he dreams about those legs, the way her hair lifts on the wind.)

And he’s not enjoying the careful buffer of space that is maintained between Steve and Natasha like he should be. How many times had Tasha watched his awkward romances? This is his damn moment!

“There it is!” Thor declares, pointing ahead to the neon sign over their restaurant. The Tipsy Flamingo is glowing in bright pink. A huge flashing yellow arrow points downwards. Blue party lights are draped all over the joint. Kind of hard to miss.

Thor is happy and at ease, apparently unbothered by the fact that the reason they’d considered this side trip in the first place was that Jane had needed to see a doctor in an actual medical center for a burn on her arm. Darcy had sent him a picture, Jane displaying her forearm with a large shiny burn and a fierce expression baring her teeth. Thor had laughed.

“Tell me somebody kissed.” Tony demands when they near, and Pepper’s lips twitch. She’s holding a champagne glass filled with a pink blended drink. “Seriously?”

“It’s been pathetic, man.” Sam says.

“Yeah, okay then. Is our table ready?” Steve asks, despite the line outside the restaurant. Because Tony never waits. 

Clint silently cheers him on, because yes. He doesn’t want to be included in this everyone knows someone has feelings thing, and he has a strong suspicion that he is. Cap’s not so sneaky with his measuring looks, and if Cap’s noticed.... 

Natasha. Clint turns his head at a right angle, glaring at her. 

“Mary mother of Christ.” Barnes mutters loudly. With feeling. He steps around Clint and holds his arms open and Clint is distracted from silently promising retribution against Nat by the uncharacteristic move.

Darcy hops down from the low wall she’d been sitting on next to Bruce, takes three running steps, and launches herself at Barnes. Who lifts her easily as her legs wrap around him, and then the woman kisses the ever living fuck out of him. 

“See?” Barnes says, letting Darcy slide back to her feet. “S’not hard.”

Then Darcy leads Barnes into the restaurant by hand, closely followed by Thor and Jane, Pepper and Bruce, and Pietro and Sam.

“Well?” Tony asks, standing with his arms crossed impatiently. 

Tony’s prepared for Natasha’s swift punch as she passes him. But Wanda’s comes as a surprise, he’d discounted a physical attack from her, and she jabs him soundly in the ribs and Clint finds himself grinning.

Like an idiot. 

Next to Steve. Who’s grinning like an idiot.

Tony grins back at them under the neon lights. Because he’s the damn president of the club of idiots wooing women completely out of their league. Membership three, because it seemed Barnes sure as hell knew what he was doing and wouldn’t be signing up anytime soon.


	17. Chapter 17

Darcy stills mid kick, hands making fists in her sheets. She knows where she is, she’s never had problems with that like Jane did upon waking in a new place. She’s in the fancy hotel room Tony had paid for.

It smells like jasmine and roses, has emerald green thick pile carpet, and a glorious bathtub with jets. It’s the nicest hotel room Darcy has ever stayed in, by far. Previously, Holiday Inn had been luxury when on the road.

She strains to listen, and hears the soft clicking of metal on metal that had woken her. Her eyes zero in on the door across the room. Is it her imagination that the door knob jiggles?

Rolling towards her phone, she kicks free of the sheets that aren’t as soft as the ones she’s been sleeping on in the Stark houses she’s spent the past six days in. 3:37 glows up at her as she yanks the charging cord out and darts towards the armchair near the bathroom to dig her taser out of her purse.

It only takes one glance outside her peep hole to make two conclusions. One, yes someone is definitely attempting to pick her lock. Two, it is not any of her new friends that might think breaking into her hotel room is socially acceptable.

She can see a pair of shiny brown leather shoes that must belong to the lock picker, and then a tall and skinny man that looks a slimeball keeping watch. There’s just something about him that screams ladies watch your drinks.

Darcy backs away from the door, phone in one hand and taser in the other. Bathroom or balcony? The bathroom has a locking door, but no other exits. The balcony is unexpected, plus Thor could access it if he needed to.

Decision made, Darcy slips out into the humid night. Early morning? She lifts her phone to her ear and groans when Thor’s loud and exuberant voicemail message begins to play. Her own voice reels off Jane’s. Steve’s is the generic robot one.

Darcy looks up to see the two men creeping into her room through her now open door. She huddles behind the bistro table and watches them, holding herself completely still. Her mouth drops open when the lock picker starts digging through her suitcase. Slimeball lays her underwear on the floor and takes a picture of it.

What the fuck?

Then Lock Picker looks towards the balcony. Darcy mutters a curse and waits. He goes down twitching in the doorway. Slimeball chucks a vase at her and clutches his camera as he turns for the door. He goes down flailing wildly.

Her hands shake. She flicks them twice, and hops in place once. Then she checks both men for weapons. Her stomach flips over when she finds a shiny silver handgun on Slimeball.

Darcy tries Jane’s phone again. The bad guys are down, she’s standing in her underwear, and they’d been pawing through her stuff. She feels angry, jumped up, and more than a little vulnerable. Jane doesn’t answer, and she tries Thor again before growling with frustration.

 _Wanda!_ She whisper-hisses in her mind. _Wanda, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda_.

Which is probably not how that works at all. Darcy sighs, resigning herself to try Steve again. Maybe she should risk crossing the room again for some pants?

She flinches at the knock on the door, and reflexively checks that both men are still out for the count. Edging towards the door she keeps her taser raised towards her visitors. After a quick check of the peephole, Darcy opens the door.

“That actually works?” She asks, staring at Wanda. The other woman stands in the hallway in a dusky pink silk robe. A gray lace slip shows where the robe gapes open at the chest, and Wanda’s long hair falls in tousled waves.

"It can.” Wanda smiles cautiously. “You must trust me very much. Is there...something wrong? Do you need to talk? Your voice felt distressed.”

“Thanks for coming, Wanda.” Darcy reaches out to touch the other woman’s shoulder, filled with gratitude. “These two creepers broke into my room. I tased them, but they’re still creeping me the fuck out and one of them had a gun. I tried calling Jane, Thor and Steve but no one picked up. And I realized I don’t actually have anyone else’s phone number.”

“What?” Wanda’s softness fades.

Darcy opens the door and gestures to the bodies with her taser. Pretty self explanatory.

“I have the gun. He didn’t pull it on me.” Darcy points to the little table next to the door. “I stuck in the drawer.”

“What?” Pietro asks, suddenly appearing behind Wanda. The rush of air that accompanies his arrival is cool against Darcy’s exposed skin, reminding her she’s wearing a tank top and her underwear. “What happened?”

“These men broke into Darcy’s room.” Wanda explains in rapid-fire Sokovian. “She disabled them with her taser and disarmed one.”

“They were taking pictures of my stuff.” Darcy offers, glancing back into the room where her suitcase had been turned over and the wardrobe thrown open. She turns back when she feels fingers wrapping lightly around her wrist tugging her towards the hall. “Woah, I’m not dressed for the hallway.”

“You speak Sokovian?” Pietro asks, not releasing her hand but no longer her tugging her out. Wanda had stopped midway towards the men to look back at Darcy.

“Surprise!” Darcy tries for a smile, bringing her hands up for some spirit fingers. “Thor thought you guys might be lonely not being able to speak your native tongue to anybody, and I pick up languages really easy. I thought maybe we could be pen pals or something, but then we all got invited on Tony Stark’s Island Vacation Extravaganza.”

“Darcy.” Pietro says after a long look shared with Wanda. “Would you like to go to my room while we secure this room?”

“Yes, that would be-“ Darcy muffles a shriek and clings to whatever she can get her hands on. Pietro’s shoulders, she discovers when they stop. She blows a piece of her hair out of her face and surveys the new room from his arms. It’s very like hers, only not covered in her stuff. His nondescript black luggage is against one wall, and the sheets trail across the floor towards the door. “-awesome.”

“I will lock the door behind me. Help yourself to some clothes, if you would like.” He offers, setting her in the middle of the bed. He motions to the suitcase, but stands there watching her.

She realizes he’s waiting for a response and nods.

“We will be right back.” He promises, then there’s only empty space where he stood and the door is clicking shut.

Darcy is left holding her taser and her phone, staring at a well-worn pair of running shoes at the end of the bed. After a second she jolts into motion, going to his suitcase.

She finds three more pairs of running shoes, these all pristine and wonders absently how many pairs he goes through in a week. By the time the twins return, Darcy is wearing an Avengers training t-shirt that hangs to mid-thigh, sipping a whiskey on the rocks, and half-watching _I Love Lucy_ on the television.

“They were paparazzi who planned to expose you as Tony’s mistress.” Pietro tells Darcy as Wanda pulls the door shut behind her, not bothering with English. “They are with hotel security now, waiting for the police to arrive.”

“We destroyed their cameras and put your room to rights.” Wanda adds, crossing the room to sit next to Darcy on the bed.

“One of them had taken something of yours.” Pietro flits around the room, handing Wanda a sparkling water, putting the sheets on the end of the bed, adjusting the curtains.

 _The man with the mustache had a pair of blue lace underwear in his pocket that belonged to you. I placed them in the top zippered pouch of your suitcase for you to do with as you choose._ Wanda’s voice says in her mind.

Darcy shudders. _Yuck. Maybe we could burn them?_

Wanda is staring back at Darcy when Darcy turns to her, and when Darcy shoots a look towards Pietro he’s watching her too. “What?”

“It is just surprising that we can communicate so clearly that way, that is all.” Wanda says, giving Darcy a small smile. “Do you want to go back to bed? If you don’t, we’ll stay up with you.”

“How do you feel about a night swim?” Darcy asks. Pietro is gone again, the door clicking shut behind him. “I’m guessing you get used to that?”

“You’re handling it well.” Wanda says with a shrug. “Many find him annoying, but that is often just a way to deal with and cover their fear.”

“Not Clint.” Darcy says, because Clint is obvious and loud-spoken about finding Pietro annoying.

“No.” Wanda’s lips curve. “Not Clint. I believe he finds my brother annoying for other, more genuine reasons.”

Pietro comes to a stop next to Darcy, dropping her suitcases onto the bed. He’s wearing the pair of red swim trunks he’d bought when they’d walked the boardwalk after dinner. “I hope you don’t mind, I grabbed all of your things.”

Wanda takes the purple swimsuit he holds out. Apparently he’d also stopped by his sister’s room.

“You can get my sundress while we change. The blue one.” Wanda says. “We’ll meet you in the hall.”

They’re on the beach in time to watch the sun begin to stain the night sky red. The other beach goers are either joggers or shell hunters and they have no trouble securing three inner tubes from the hotel provisions counter.

They bob on the waves, Darcy holding Wanda’s hand and Wanda holding Pietro’s so they stay together.

“Tell me what else this ‘Do it Like an Avenger’ quiz told you about my brother.” Wanda requests as the sun breaks over the horizon. “I am sorry to tell you it was wrong about the crepes. He cannot cook. No patience.”

“Oh, like you can talk.” Pietro scoffs. “You burn everything. Or it’s so under-cooked the street urchins won’t eat it.”

Through unseen forces, Pietro’s inner tube flips over. Darcy finds herself fighting a laugh as Wanda smirks.


	18. Chapter 18

Tony isn’t expecting to find the super soldier bffs debating the necessity of breaking into Darcy’s hotel room when he rounds the corner of the hallway. But he does.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asks, and another time Tony would really enjoy the way Steve’s shoulders jerk.

“That’s what I was going to ask.” Sam says, stepping out of his room two doors down. “But now I’m wondering what you all are doing too.”

“Darcy called me last night. Late.” Steve answers, waving his phone as if that explained things. “Now she isn’t answering the door.”

“And between the two of you, you decided breaking in was a good idea?” Sam asks in his ‘am I the only sane one around here’ tone. The man had it so perfected he should trademark it, but Tony isn’t buying it for a hot second. Who jumped on the chance to run around with a newly declared federal fugitive Captain America and steal government military property while he was it?

Not the only sane one around here. Pepper would never do that.

“We were debating it.” Steve says, drawing up to his full height. “It was a very late phone call.”

“Friends?” Thor asks, slowing as he comes barreling around the corner with Jane, nearly plowing into Pepper and Clint. “Have you seen Darcy? She called us last night, but we must have slept through her calls.”

“Alright, mystery gang.” Tony holds up a hand to stop the madness. It’s a little much when his first cup of coffee had been interrupted. “The hotel gifted me a hell of a gift basket in apology for the intrusion into Miss Lewis’ room last night. I’m guessing that’s why she called.”

“But we should call her-“ Sam stops talking as the door is busted off it’s hinges. Since Barnes did the kicking, Steve is the first one through. They’re both back out before Natasha can follow them in.

Then they can all hear the faint strains of _U Can’t Touch This_ , starting from ‘stop, hammer time’ come through the wall from Pietro’s room.

Steve turns slowly to face the other door.

“Stop!” Pepper commands loudly.

“Voicemail.” Thor lowers his phone. “Darcy always answers her phone.”

“I’ll call Pietro.” Steve grits out.

Tony rocks back on his heels thinking he was right again about probably needing to bring the suit. If Lewis had hopped beds in the middle of the night after a scare, he wasn’t sure anyone wanted to see Barnes’ reaction.

The door next to Tony opens and Bruce pauses in the threshold still buttoning his shirt. “Whaaaa?”

“Lewis room intrusion wee hours, phone calls not picked up, half a cup of coffee, hideous floral arrangement, hammer time ring tone in Speedy’s room.” Tony reels off.

“Pietro.” Steve says, and Tony makes a shushing motion at Bruce. “I was wondering if you were with Darcy. You are?”

Steve darts a quelling look at Tony. What? Tony is seventy-three percent sure he didn’t react. He peeks a look at Pepper’s expression and adjusts that estimate to forty-seven percent sure.

“Okay, well- Oh. You’re eating breakfast?” Steve steps out of reach of Sam, who reached out to slap his arm. Tony thinks the man should give Steve a break, talking on the phone with the male Maximoff is an excerise in frustration. The kid’s normally questionable patience got worse and translated into near constant interruptions. “We just wanted to make sure Darcy was okay. Did she talk to you- At the Pelican Cafe?”

Steve holds his hand over the mouthpiece on his phone. “They want us to meet them at the Pelican Cafe for breakfast. They already have a table.”

That seems like it might be awkward. And Tony has a perfectly good gift basket filled with pastries and muffins back in his rooms with Pep.

“That sounds wonderful.” Pepper says, and Tony sighs.

“We’ll meet you there.” Steve says into the phone. “Look, we heard there was- Okay. I see. Yes. Yes, we’ll check on that later. I understand, we’ll take care of it. Okay, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up the phone with obvious relief. “Two paparazzi broke into Darcy’s room last night. She tased them and contacted Wanda when she couldn’t reach anyone else. Wanda and Pietro coordinated with hotel security and destroyed the cameras. Darcy is unharmed.”

“They forced their way into Lady Darcy’s sleeping chamber?” Thor clarifies, and when he goes Shakespeare it means shit’s getting real.

“Pietro said they made it clear we would be following up with the police, and Pietro has a gun one of the men was carrying hidden in his room.” Steve says, then holds his hands out. “But Darcy is fine. I could hear her laughing with Wanda on their end.”

“It would be best to check in with Darcy, have breakfast, and then check in at the police station later once we have a clearer understanding of what transpired.” Natasha says firmly.

“Indeed.” Thor says, the near-constant joviality of his tone missing as he stomps through the group and into Bruce’s room through the as yet open door, Jane stomping right along with him.

“Pep-“

“No, Tony.”

“But they’re flying.” Tony mutters as Jane and Thor take off from Bruce’s balcony.

When they arrive at the restaurant there are four carafes of coffee on the table, and it looks like a miracle. Darcy is smiling with Jane on one side and Wanda on the other, and Thor seems to be entertaining them with a story that requires two pieces of grapefruit and a waterfall of syrup as a demonstration.

They’ve got an entire level of the deck to themselves in the open air restaurant, overlooking the beach and the ocean. Birds perch on the railings waiting for a chance to swoop in, and families walk past on the beach, looking for a spot to spread out for the day.

Wanda slips out of her seat quickly when she sees them approaching, and Barnes doesn’t stand on ceremony. He does stand on the table briefly when he plants his boot in the middle of it as he walks over it to drop into the newly empty seat next to Darcy.

Tony hopes Clint and Steve are taking notes as Barnes wraps an arm around the back of Darcy’s chair and bends close to her. Tony hopes the coffee is even halfway decent. Tony hopes Pepper isn’t half as exasperated as she looks as the group plans out hang gliding after scaring the shit out of two paparazzo that will likely be looking for new pants along with new lines of work in a few hours.

And Tony is glad he somehow ended up with this woman next to him, sitting at this table where it’s normal to plan extreme sports excursions and mildly legally dubious interrogations over breakfast.

And that the coffee is more than decent.


	19. Chapter 19

Bucky can feel tense muscles gently loosening in her shoulders underneath his arm. She’s leaning into his right side, a headset over her ears so she can listen to the pilots chatter.

He’s glad to see the island again too. It’s a controlled environment, private, and feels safe.

As the copter descends, Darcy pulls her headset off and lets it drop into her lap. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“No place I’d rather be, doll.” He answers, automatically and honestly. Hang gliding had sounded fun, especially the thought of watching Stevie learn. And he’d wanted to pay those two paparazzi a visit, from the second he’d learned they’d invaded Darcy’s room.

But some things are black and white for him now, so incredibly simple that he doesn’t even have to think. So when he’d asked her what she wanted, and she’d said she’d like to go back to the house, that had been that.

Bucky had expected them to have very different company when Steve had said anyone who didn’t want to go hang gliding could hop a ride back with Darcy and Bucky. Only Bruce and Wanda had joined them.

Most of the team wanting to hang glide is understandable. Adrenaline junkies and all. But Pepper and Jane were both very excited, and in fact Tony was only going to watch Pepper.

“I can make sandwiches for lunch.” Bruce offers as they walk across the lawn together and the helicopter lifts off again.

“Cucumber turkey and avocado?” Darcy asks hopefully as Bucky edges in front to enter the house first and do a quick sweep to make sure everything is as they had left it. It’s something he needs to do, and he’s endlessly thankful that Darcy doesn’t make him hash it all out, tug at all those strings, and just stays when he touches her hip at the threshold.

They end up out on the patio, with a tray of sandwiches comprised of the strangest toppings Bucky could think of. Walnuts, cranberry and a sharp white cheese. Sprouts, anchovies and ham. Darcy’s preferred cucumber turkey and avocado.

Bucky gets the umbrella stuck through the table to afford them a little shade, and is surprised at how much he enjoys the sandwiches. And also conversation with Bruce while Bucky trails his fingers over Darcy’s knee under the table. And the rolling sokovian Darcy and Wanda are sharing, which leads to soft laughter.

From the clarifications in English Wanda is providing, Bucky realizes that while Darcy’s Sokovian sounds right, she’s having issues with the complexity of the language. Bucky knows, one of the pieces of knowledge that’s just there, that Sokovian is one of the more difficult languages to learn, layered with special rules and confusing tenses. Most agencies opt for other Slavic languages out of necessity.

“What about jet packs?” Bruce says, and Bucky snorts.

“Yeah, they said you’d have jet packs by now. And underwater cities, and a colony on the moon.” Bucky tips his chair back on two legs, thinking back to the pulp fiction books the librarians had reluctantly stocked back when he and Steve were running all over Brooklyn. “Robots everywhere. Automated everything.”

“Well, there’s talk about jet packs. And there is an underwater research facility in Bermuda.” Bruce offers, turning his butter knife over his hands. It’s a nervous gesture, the man almost always has something in his hands tumbling it over and over. Bucky finds it amusing that it’s a knife now, and that the other man hasn’t noticed. “There’s a work station on the moon, and you’ve been to the tower.”

“Jarvis.” Bucky nods in agreement. “If we hadn’t met Stark, this century would be a hell of a let down.”

“Oh, yisssssss.” Darcy says, straightening next to him. “Guys, look.”

She sets her phone in the middle of the table, and soon Bucky is watching Thor’s clumsy yet exuberant attempt to hanglide. The video is followed by others. Pepper had been a little choppy to start, but then was sailing around smoothly. Whoever had been taking the video had cut down to Tony standing on a grassy hillside, staring up at her with a smile that curled on both sides of his mouth.

Sam and Steve had been prepared to run along beside Jane to help her get the glider up off the ground, but she managed on her own and instead they merely stood by and clapped. Natasha went tandem with Sam, her hands spread out to comb through the wind. Pietro had to attempt it three times in order to moderate his speed and lift correctly. Steve nearly crashed and managed to lift back up at the last minute, laughing like a loon. Clint’s video consisted of everyone yelling at him to come down or they were leaving him.

“I think I’m going to take a nap.” Bruce says once the video ends, and starts picking up everyone’s empty plates. “I’ll take this in.”

“Anyone want to swim with me? And also day drink? I am so game for day drinking.” Darcy stretches her arms over her head, then hops from foot to foot in place.

The serum makes Bucky’s metabolism run fast, and he burns alcohol fast. He keeps up a steady pace of drinking, and is often tipsy or even perhaps drunk, but there are also several periods of sobriety. The same is not true for Darcy and Wanda, and he ends up tying the shield float and the wings float together so he can more easily tow the two women back in towards shore.

Darcy is handsy and happy, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind and setting her chin on his shoulder, or draping her legs over him, once wrapping her legs around his waist for him to keep her afloat. She kisses the palm of his metal hand once when she catches it.

He spends half an hour throwing both women into deeper water while they shriek and eventually he turns around to find Bruce has taken over the shield float.

A while later, he finds himself hanging off the side of the wings float, playing with Darcy’s fingers as Wanda and Bruce go to see about making something for dinner. Darcy is buzzed and comfortable, Bucky can tell, and she lets her free hand dangle lazily in the water.

“Thanks for staying with me.” She says, head tipped over to rest on her arm as she sprawls on the float. “I wasn’t scared – well, I was when it happened. But not today. Just had some leftover jitters, you know?”

Bucky kisses her knuckles, kicking slowly to push them back towards the beach. “How about now?”

“I feel decidedly un-jittery with you.” She says with her eyes at half mast.

“I’m glad.” Bucky tells her, which doesn’t even begin to describe how that makes him feel.

Her lips curve. “You make me feel other things.”

“I’m glad,” He repeats, but this time on a growl that makes her smile spread. And he nips at her knuckles.

“Ugh.” She flips over and shades her eyes to look back at the beach. “How do you feel about carrying me to the deck shower? My muscles feel like jello.”

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t doll. Think I can see some sand spiders from here.”

She laughs under her breath and squeezes his fingers. She clings to his shoulders when he holds her aloft with one arm and tugs the floats up into the little beach shanty, but settles back once she realizes he can manage it easily.

“Girl could get used to this.” She warns, and Bucky can’t wait any longer to kiss her again. This kiss is slower and more indulgent than the impromptu one they’d shared in front of everyone. It’s a while before they rinse the sand off together in the outdoor shower, and they’re only nudged along by the sound of the helicopter returning.

It’s Sam, Jane, Thor and Pietro. Steve, Natasha, Clint, Pepper and Tony are sailing the boat back. Sam mutters that Clint hadn’t been too excited about the couple’s cruise, but it had been safer to have another experienced sailor in addition to Tony since they’d be back after nightfall.

Darcy walks past Bucky in the kitchen and trails her fingers over his stomach absently as she talks with Jane, and he hopes that Steve and Natasha end up sharing that seat again.

The punk deserves it. Bucky’s brain follows paths forged long ago, and he weaves through the busy kitchen to where Darcy and Jane sit in the living room. Darcy is in charge of the music, and Jane just seems to be sticking close just in case Darcy needs her.

He’s surprised at the open smile Jane gives him when he approaches, and the way she moves off, apparently accepting him as a worthy stand-in. If he hadn’t seen her being so protective of Darcy around the others, hell, around _Steve_ , he’d think she trusted easily. But no. During breakfast she’d been willing to take her eagle eyes off Darcy only if Thor or Bucky were at Darcy’s side.

He hears Jane begin critiquing the food in the kitchen.

“You friendly with Natasha?” Bucky asks, sitting on the couch next to Darcy. She tips into his side, then looks up at him. “I need your help with something.”


	20. Chapter 20

Jane is very uncertain about sneaking into Darcy’s room the next morning. One, she’d gotten punched that morning she let ninety percent of her brain work on that stupid equation and the other ten percent had inexplicably thought Darcy, Darcy, would be interested in morning yoga. Two, and this is the real reason, she’s worried Bucky might have spent the night.

But she knows Darcy. They’ve been glued to each other’s sides for the majority of the past four years. And yes, maybe Jane didn’t have Darcy’s every preference memorized, like Darcy did hers, but they were different that way. Jane did know when her friend was thrown off by something and powering through.

And that had been Darcy yesterday, that had been Darcy in London, and in Puente Antiguo, and a million other circumstances when things went to shit and Darcy didn’t stop. 

It means, in Janeland, that Darcy deserves some pampering today. Jane had waited until after ten, and since Jane’s significant other, and therefore primary sounding board, is Thor she’s proceeding in the most logical way they could come up with.

Worried about intruding on Darcy’s brand new relationship with her ex(?) assassin super soldier and maybe interrupting sexy fun times? 

Probably best to bring a full continental breakfast, and they should both go. (Jane realizes that she and Thor use up all of their logical thought processes on stars, portals, rainbow bridges, politics, hammers, and fucked up family relations. Luckily, Darcy is just their kind of crazy, and this shit works. Jane doesn’t know how she got so lucky.)

Jane tip toes through the piles of clothes, shoes, and towels. She smiles at a bright green tutu, then stops several feet from the bed. “Darce?”

The massive lump on the bed doesn’t move.

“Darcy?” Jane whispers. “Is that a super soldier or just all of your pillows under those blankets?”

“G’way. No fire.” Darcy grumbles.

“I’m proceeding as if there are only feathers in that bed with you, Darcy.” Jane says, and Thor creeps forward with her.

“No, no. G’way. Sleep, Janie. Sleep.” The covers suddenly jerk around, Darcy’s elbows and knees moving as she yanks them in tight so Jane can’t pull them back. “Th’ things, Jane. Th’ things I will do t’you.”

“C’mon, Darce. Come out, we brought you delicious things.” Jane wheedles.

“I hate you both.” Darcy mumbles, wiggling deeper into her wad of covers. 

“It is a beautiful morn, waiting to be greeted by my most beautiful and valiant sister.” Thor says, stopping next to the bed. “And the day waits to be lit by your triumph.”

“Imma disown you, Thor.” The lump says.

Thor hands the tray over to Jane and bends to lift the lump, easily managing to work around her attempts to escape, turning Darcy upright and leaning her back against the headboard. 

“Noooooooo, Thooooooor.” Darcy moans, still wrapped within her covers. “Wait, whas that smell?”

Jane exchanges grins with Thor. “I don’t know, Darce. The only thing I can smell are these chocolate strawberry pancakes.”

“Dearest Jane, surely you can smell this fresh coffee we have brought, with hazelnut dreams creamer?” Thor adds, raising a theatrical golden brow. 

Darcy’s arms flail, fighting her way out of the covers she’s knotted herself in, and finally her head emerges. Her hair is a tousled mess, and she looks blearily up at them. Jane feels a rush of affection, because she’s seen this sleep rumpled, grumpy face a thousand times. One arm extends, the hand making grabby motions.

Thor hands Darcy her mug and climbs onto the bed, reaching for the tray so Jane can join them. 

“Sweet, sweet Ryan Gosling, what is in my mouth?” Darcy asks after several gulps.

“Natasha has taught me the ways of the press. It hails from the land of France.” 

“A french press? Did you tell her I love her?” Darcy asks him, nose back in her mug.

“I did, don’t worry.” Jane lays out three plates on a relatively flat part of the bed after tossing six pillows and one boot onto the floor. The unopened box of limited edition pop-tarts she just shoves back into the wad of covers and pillows, where it will be safe.

“I still hate you guys.” Darcy says, scowling a little.

“But it is morning.” Thor says in a leading tone.

Darcy sighs. “But it is morning, and I love you all of the rest of the time. Probably even in the morning.”

“You are vexed by your lifelong nemesis. We understand and support you.” Thor nudges a plate of pancakes into Darcy’s free hand.

Darcy scowls again, tipping her head to lean it against Thor’s shoulder. “You guys are the best. And by the best I mean the literal worst. Best.”

“We love you too, Darce.” Jane scoops an extra large spoonful of chocolate whipped cream onto Darcy’s pile of pancakes. 

Midway through Darcy’s second cup of coffee, she begins assuring Thor that she would never actually disown him. Thor states confidently that he knows, but Darcy continues, and Jane knows that Thor needs to hear it. 

Jane had always been one hundred percent (eighty-six percent) okay with not having friends or a significant other in her life. She had the entire universe waiting for her. 

Thor didn’t make any kind of sense, Jane is well aware. He distracts her even when he’s not around which had never been a problem with her other dating prospects, and he takes up valuable science time, which had been grounds for ending things with others.

During the rare times she’d imagined having someone, he’d been a fellow scientist. Lab coat wearing, as dedicated to his lab as she was to hers, who could understand when she went off on a tangent, maybe even check her calculations.

Thor is not a scientist, he does not understand the first thing about her calculations. The idea of him in a lab coat is laughable. He does not have a retirement plan or health benefits (something Jane really needs, because she hasn’t had a physical in eight years and Darcy isn’t letting it go) and Jane doesn’t know a good way to ask if she’d entitled to any Asgardian health programs as the consort of the prince who abdicated the throne.

But Thor always carefully collects her calculations, be they scratched on napkins after dinner or inked onto a cereal box. He beams with such pride at her accomplishments and it’s the most flustering thing Jane has ever experienced because no one had ever been that proud of her. He tells her that he has found her to be both the most brilliant and beautiful woman in the universe, and he believes it. 

Jane has smiled more in the time she has spent with Thor than she has in her entire life combined. 

She doesn’t quite understand it, but Darcy says love should be that way. Largely involuntary, inexplicable, and incorrigible. Loving Thor is definitely all of those things.

And then there is Darcy. Jane’s best friend, although she has no other friends so the designation of ‘best’ is moot. That isn’t the case for Darcy, who makes friends with an ease that is completely foreign and mystifying to Jane. Everywhere they go, Darcy has friends. Not late night soul-baring talks friends, but chat happily, wave, exchange emails friends.

When Jane had needed some numbers from Tromso, Darcy had instant messaged some guy named Loren and got the numbers in a matter of minutes instead of weeks. Some lady in Puente Antiguo sends Darcy Christmas e-cards with hilarious dancing elves in them. Jane’s own grandmother talks to Darcy as much as she talks to Jane when she calls. 

The way Pietro and Wanda had suddenly been paying Darcy a lot more attention, Jane would guess that they’d discovered that Darcy had learned Sokovian. Jane remembers the first time she witnessed Darcy learning a language, back when she’d been sure she’d be much happier once Darcy’s internship was over. 

The girl had decided to learn Latin instead of reading the books Jane had foisted on her to give her some kind of base point of knowledge in Jane’s field. It was driving Jane up the wall, the way that Darcy wasn’t taking it seriously, and she’d had to listen to the other girl babble on and on with Rosetta-Stone.

Then the Latin had come in handy, and Darcy had read the other books eventually, and Jane came to not be able to imagine her life without Darcy in it. Since then, Darcy had taught herself French in preparation for a trip to Paris that hadn’t happened thanks to the Dark Elves, and Swedish while they were in Tromso. And Jane has found that Darcy stumbling over new words and pronunciation in the background helps her concentrate.

“Janie?” Darcy nudges Jane’s knee with her own.

Jane looks from Darcy to a relaxed and at-ease looking Thor. Assured of his place in the world. Or at least, their world. Jane pushes up onto her knees so she can press a kiss to his cheek.


	21. Chapter 21

“You can hear her?” Pietro asks, watching as his sister runs her hands over the rigging of the sail boat. It’s docked inside the wooden boathouse, waves lapping gently at the bow. Wanda had led him here, picking her way down the beach.

He is long used to the feel of her in his mind, like a familiar fluttering, a gentle touch, sometimes even a hug.

She shoots him a look. “I can hear most people, if they think loud enough.”

Pietro flicks his fingers at her, because she knows what he means. In battle, Steve and Thor both think very loudly. It makes it hard for Wanda to concentrate, and Pietro has to keep a closer eye on her. Sometimes there will be strangers who Wanda says their thoughts are like yelling and she’ll move away from them.

But picking up singular broadcasted thoughts is very different from someone’s mind opened to her. That is impressions, conversations, hints of humor. The gentle touch, the hug, only returned.

“Yes, I can hear her.” Wanda tips her head back to look up the tall mast. “It is very strange. I have not... pushed, I didn’t want to intrude. But I can tell that she does not trust easily.”

“Then why does she trust you?”

“Us.” Wanda smirks at him. “She trusts us because of Thor. It is her way. Already Tony has disrupted it, and Pepper.”

“What did they do?”

Wanda moves one shoulder in a minute shrug. “I do not know. I can tell that she does not feel for them the same way as the others. It is little things that I can pick up from her.”

“She treats him the same.” Pietro says, wondering if his sister realizes that she has gravitated to the place she stood with Barton.

“Yes, but there is this light under layer of unease. She is wary, on some level.”

“Afraid?” Pietro asks, frowning at the thought.

“No.” Wanda leans against the mast, resting her cheek against the wood. “Brother, do you think Dr. Foster or Thor would stand for such a thing?”

Pietro doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to, she can feel his agreement. Instead he checks the fridge in the cabin, retrieving two carbonated drinks.

“She thinks you’re funny.” Wanda says when he hands her the pink bottle. “She roots for you when you bicker with Clint.”

The pleasure fades as quickly as it had arisen. “Oh, we’re calling him Clint now, are we?”

“Infant.” She accuses.

“Are we here to learn to pilot this thing? So you can sail away with Clint.”

“Perhaps I will learn.” She runs her hand up the mast. “It was enjoyable. I had peace.”

Pietro turns so she can’t see his grimace, even if she could sense it. He knows she isn’t talking only about sailing. “If it gives you peace, then I will tolerate it.”

“Oh, Piet. You are the best brother. How did I get so lucky?” She flicks his elbow.

“I will drop you into the bay and leave you here.” He threatens. One of the boat cushions hits him in the ass with a thump, nearly sending him to his knees.

She rises, but he lunges and manages to snag her ankle. It is only her shock, her disbelief that he will because they’ve become so careful with each other these past years, that he manages it. Using his own momentum to sling her over the edge of the boat.

“Piet!” She screeches before she hits the water with a splash. He has his own moment of disbelief, then he runs as fast as he can.

Boat pillows follow him, hitting the sand centimeters behind his feet and throwing up sheets of sand. Clint watches from the wings float and Natasha from the shield float, and then Pietro turns, barely ducking a life jacket as he corners around Steve, Bucky and Sam.

Then he runs into the house, into Wanda’s room and gathers her a fresh change of clothes and a towel, because he’d remembered another reason he didn’t play tricks on his sister anymore.

He can’t hide from her. As he starts back down the hallway he catches a delicious scent. He stops just outside Darcy’s bedroom and inhales again. He can just hear the deep rumble of Thor’s voice.

After knocking and receiving a yelled invitation to enter he discovers Dr. Foster, Thor and Darcy on Darcy’s bed with a tray of food. Delicious smelling food.

“Hello.” Pietro says, focusing on Darcy. “I have done something stupid and beg your assistance.”

Darcy’s eyes sink to the clothes in his hands. Her brow arches up and she smirks. “You want a pancake, don’t you? You want a pancake to bribe Wanda.”

Pietro grins.

“Fine. Take it. Make sure you get some of the whipped cream. It’s chocolate and Thor made it from scratch.”

He ends up looking down at his plate and remembering the sand she’d had raining down on him. He shifts on his feet once, a nervous gesture that he’s never managed to shake but that no one can see now thanks to the speed he completes it with.

“Shield brother.” Pietro says, using the words Thor uses himself. It’s Pietro’s first time even responding to them, must less using them himself.

“You have only to ask.” Thor claps a hand on his shoulder, beaming at him. “I should much like to see this mischief!”

So Pietro dodges sand explosions on the way back, and Thor flies the bribe, constructed by Jane and Darcy and now three pancakes, strawberries, a mound of whipped cream, and chocolate shavings, to the boathouse.

He feels confident in his chances until he sees his sister standing on the end of the dock, dripping wet and draped with seaweed. Thor manages to catch the bundle of clothes Pietro tosses up before he hits the water.


	22. Chapter 22

“Did you know that Pietro can run on water?” Natasha asks, turning back to Steve. She’d been slowly angling herself away from him as he failed to pick up on any of the cues she was offering. The problem is she’s Natasha Romanov and her cues are so subtle a normal man would need about two decades of training to read them. And he’s not a normal man, he’s Steve Rogers, notoriously and famously terrible at talking to women.

He’s not sure why Pietro is the topic that brings her back towards him so he has another chance instead of watching her walk away to join one of the others on the beach.

“He can?” Steve asks, because he hadn’t known that and it was definitely something that could be useful. She goes to look back over the railing towards the beach, and he shifts, reaching to trail his fingers down her arm. It was a spur of the moment move, and after he did it he was shocked that he had. But she keeps her eyes on him, like he’d wanted and he tries to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat.

Her lips curve, and she tips her head to the side, towards the beach. “Look.”

So he does, and he sees what caught her attention and brought about the change in subject. Pietro is running towards them, his rapidly moving feet spitting up a small fountain of water behind him as he runs on top of the water.

“Did we know he could do that?” Tony yells up at them from the beach. Steve can hear when he speaks quieter, demanding of Sam and Bucky who sit with him in beach chairs in the surf, “Seriously, did we?”

“Is that Darcy?” Natasha asks, leaning forward with her eyes narrowed.

Steve returns his gaze to the approaching man. “Yeah. She’s smiling, so I think everything is okay.”

“They have cell phones. They would have called if there was a problem.” Natasha says logically.

Steve shrugs, unable to help it that most of the time his brain latches on to worst case scenarios. This vacation had actually helped with that, he hadn’t tensed when he first realized Pietro was approaching unexpectedly. Darcy and Pietro had gone with most of the others on an afternoon sail. They weren’t meant to return for another few hours.

“I want to see what happened.” Natasha pushes away from the railing.

Steve follows her down, in turns admiring the sway of her hips and lecturing himself for not keeping his eyes in appropriate places. She’s a beautiful woman, no one can deny it. But there’s a reason so much of her strategy involves her looks. Her entire life people have focused on them first, and not anything else, be it her fighting skills or her intelligence.

He has to catch up to her on the beach, because her sandals had been easier to slip off than his tennis shoes. One of his strides is equal to two of hers as he makes up the distance following her footprints in the sand.

Steve reaches the group just as Pietro streaks past them, then loops back.

“Okay guys, why didn’t any of you tell me how boring sailing is?” Darcy asks as Pietro gently sets her on her feet. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You made Speedy run you across the ocean because you were bored?” Tony sounds delighted.

“Okay, one, holy hell drama llama, it was like a hundred miles, tops. Not across the ocean. Jesus.” Darcy clings to Pietro’s arm, obviously trying to regain her equilibrium. “Two, made him? Who even? Three, I obviously nicely asked Thor to hammertime me back, and Pietro volunteered instead because he was bored too.”

Pietro shrugs his shoulders. “Transportation slower than I am is often boring.”

Darcy gasps, staring down at the sand. “What are you guys drinking? It looks radioactive. I want some. Wait!”

She removes her hand from Pietro’s arm and stands still for a moment, testing her balance. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Bucky twitch.

Then Darcy suddenly focuses her gaze on Natasha. “Jane told you that I love you, right?”

Steve feels his eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise.

“I thought that was what she mumbled at me.” Natasha confirms. Steve thinks he catches a hint of uncertainty in her tone, something a tiny bit vulnerable and he has to resist the urge to step closer to her.

“I love you.” Darcy says empathetically, taking a large step forward and hugging Natasha. “You are my best friend with red hair, and despite red hair being a recessive gene, I’m personally friends with seventeen redheads. I don’t expect you to be super chuffed about topping the list though. I figure by now when you enter a competition they just hand you the medal and move on.”

Darcy smiles as she steps back. “Sorry Steve, I know you’re probably faster than she is, but she would just totally engineer a killer leg cramp for you mid-race and win anyway.”

“Just slowly lower his potassium intake for the thirty six hours preceding the starting gun.” Natasha says with a modest shrug and Darcy beams at her.

“Yep. You’ll do. C’mon, we can do better than this gruel they didn’t bother to share with us.”

“Aw, no. Neither of you were here.” Sam protests.

Darcy retracts her arm from where she’d tucked it through Natasha’s and turns on her heel, rounding on Sam. “Seriously? You have _wings_. Your argument is invalid.”

As Darcy and Natasha walk away, Steve can hear her confess that this time that retort kind of works, but she’s using it for everything.

Steve is left standing on the beach with Pietro, Tony, Sam and Bucky. Not the most likely grouping, but that had been part of the point of the whole team vacation idea. To jumble them up, forge and reinforce bonds.

So far the only successful bonding between team members he’d noticed was: between Thor and Natasha, the thunder god having added yet another story to his list of epic tales to tell, something about Natasha rearranging the face of the mountain so that they could complete a mostly vertical climb without backtracking; and between Thor and Pietro, an inexplicable development Steve had only noticed this morning.

So he could give himself a pat on the back for working so hard to make sure Thor would come, but now he was left with an odd jumble of team personalities and no Thor to ease tensions.

“What were you saying about windsurfing, Tony?” He asks, brain latching onto something Tony had mentioned during hang gliding.

“Oh hells yes.” Sam says, smacking his hands together and grinning. “I believe he said he could kick all our asses.”

“This is like hang gliding, yes?” Pietro asks, looking less likely to bolt.

Steve forgets about trying to foster team development as he tries to stay on the damn board. It is jarring when he surfaces and finds Tony floating several feet away howling with laughter in between trying to coach Pietro from the wings float. Sam and Bucky are sharing the shield float while they waited their turn.

Steve switches out with Bucky, but within a few tries Bucky was about ready to give up, finding it impossible to balance evenly enough with his metal arm. By the time Bucky leaned back enough to fix his center of balance he couldn’t steer properly. Sam sails past, barely in control and cursing.

Darcy swims by, handing off her drink to Steve.

Steve watches as Darcy braces her elbows on Bucky’s board and floats next to him. Bucky looks up at the sail, then shrugs his shoulders. He climbs onto the board, squatting and offering Darcy a hand up.

Darcy positions herself in front of Bucky, near his flesh arm. To act as a counter balance, Steve realizes. Their first few attempts don’t last long, but seem more controlled than Bucky’s alone. On their fifth attempt they cut through the water and Darcy jumps in celebration, causing the rig to veer hard and dump over. Bucky comes up laughing, holding her steady as she sputters.

Then Natasha hands Steve her drink and swims off to claim her turn from Sam. Steve finds himself holding two drinks and alone on the wings float and wonders how he gets into this situation again and again.

How many times had he been left holding the table and watching coats and purses while Bucky entertained their dates? Natasha makes windsurfing look like a child’s game, taking waves on, twisting her hips. Sam joins Steve on the wings float, raising his eyebrows at the shield float where Tony and Pietro are laying side by side, Tony on his back and Pietro on his stomach, Tony motioning while Pietro nods.

Darcy and Bucky are cutting a smooth line across the waves when Nat swims back over, holding up a hand for her drink. Steve hands it over, already turning back to Sam to weigh in on his idea of a day trip to an island housing a scuba outfit when Natasha grips his knee and positions herself so she’s sitting on the foot he’d left dangling in water.

Luckily he hadn’t started talking yet, or he probably would have noticeably choked. Instead, it’s a hell of an effort to keep from tensing. He succeeds though, and Natasha leans her back against his leg and the edge of the float, resting comfortably mostly in the water.

And Sam, bless him, bless, bless, bless him, Sam has no reaction other than to steal Darcy’s drink. Steve steals it back before the other man can take a drink and ignores his friend’s betrayed look with a smirk.

“You thought Captain America would let you steal a lady’s drink?” Natasha asks even though she hadn’t been looking.

Steve feels like all of his senses are heightened. He can feel the waves lapping against his knee, Natasha’s hair swirling in the water, her skin against his, and especially her weight braced against him.

He knows he’s been a big joke to the others in this. And his inability to keep his head when talking to a woman he’s interested in has definitely played a part, but another reason, a big part of all of this has been who they are.

Natasha choosing to touch him in front of the others? Who know she isn’t playing a part or pressing an advantage? Natasha letting him support her weight? Those things mean more than any normal couple’s hand holding, ice cream cone sharing, night spent dancing, or flirty looks over drinks.

Steve’s throat tightens with emotion, so Sam just keeps going with the day trip plans. Apparently there’s a large beach party with a bonfire and a seafood feast, so Sam wants them to scuba in the morning, find a lunch place, explore the island, and then hit the party.

Steve nods along, because that’s what he’s capable of while cataloging every second of this moment.

But it gets even better when Darcy and Bucky swim up. Bucky slings an arm over the middle of the wings and uses the other to keep Darcy steady. Darcy apologizes for leaving Steve holding her drink for so long, her cheeks flush with exertion and excitement. Between her smile and the one on Bucky’s face, Steve can’t begin to care.

But then Darcy loops a leg over Steve’s other foot, bracing herself against Bucky, and Natasha shifts to face the group. It means Natasha is resting her arm over Steve’s knees, one of her legs looped over Darcy’s so that she’s mostly cradled by Steve’s legs.

Darcy takes a long drink, then twists to face Sam. “Here, friend. Try this delicious beverage. I think you’d like it.”

“Aw man. Now I feel guilty as hell.”

“As you should.” Natasha fixes him with an arch look.

“What? Why?” Darcy looks from Steve to Natasha and back to Sam. “What did I miss?”

“Not shit,” Sam insists, taking her drink and sampling. “Did Steve tell you that I planned a day trip for you with scuba diving and lunch and a big beach party at night?”

“Well, I’m highly bribable so I’m going to forgive you for whatever you did. Sam Wilson, I forgive you and banish your guilt, now tell me about this day trip and party.”

“Party?” Tony asks as he and Pietro paddle their float closer. “What party? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“You’re invited.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Steve and I were thinking about another day trip to Mara Luna. Scuba diving and a huge beach bonfire party. Seafood feast. Fireworks.”

“Okay, I’m gonna show off my highly honed alcoholic beverage head-balancing skills and bring the pitcher and some more glasses out here.” Darcy says pushing off of Steve’s leg.

Bucky pushes off too. “I’ll help you.”

“Okay,” Darcy says, pushing some of her hair out of her face, and then makes a sweeping motion towards Bucky, “I’m going to show off my highly honed Bucky and bring the pitcher and some more glasses out here.”

“Very nice,” Natasha says.

“Thank you,” Darcy responds imperiously, “I captured him with my womanly wiles and limited edition pop-tarts.”

Natasha smiles. “I have an idea.”

“Whatever put that look on your face, I like it.” Darcy says as Bucky begins to swim towards shore, tugging Darcy along. Darcy reaches a hand out for Natasha and tows her along too. “We’ll be back, and it’s probably gonna be awesome.”

It’s a sticky mess is what it is. Playing Twister on the shield float while holding drinks is not advisable. Or maybe it is, because Steve isn’t sure he’s ever seen Tony or Pietro laugh that much and Steve spends several minutes pressed against Natasha. He would have tried not to enjoy it so much, but she’d smirked at him when she chose the green dot closest to him. And then she’d laughed, a full blown laugh, when he’d winked at her and taken the blue dot under her stomach.

Plus Bucky had gotten a hell of a kiss for sacrificing himself to tumble with Darcy off the float on left foot yellow.

Yeah. Definitely advisable. Especially when it leads to dinner cooked out on the patio when the others return, Wanda nearly floating with her pleasure at doing so well captaining the boat. And music and some dancing and more laughter.

The next day Steve shuffles to the yacht that Tony had decided would carry them to Mara Luna and back to their island again. He’s corralling Sam and Clint. Natasha doesn’t help, merely walking straight down the dock to the boat.

Pietro is carrying Tony on his back, and Tony is sleeping through it, muttering every once and a while about not liking it when people hand him things. Pepper walks next to Bruce, still in her pajamas and sleepy. Bruce has an arm slung over her shoulders. Thor is carrying Jane and Darcy when he comes out of the house, one woman cradled in each arm, but he passes Darcy off to Bucky when Bucky approaches.

They end up slumped all over the living room on the yacht. Bucky had collapsed into a recliner to curl around Darcy. Thor had joined Pietro and Tony on the floor, Jane on top of him. Wanda sleeps with a smile on her lips and Clint’s hand curled around her ankle. When Natasha curls up next to Clint and holds out a hand to Steve, Steve abandons his place on the couch and lays down next to her.

He always wakes early, with the sun, usually regardless of how late he’d gone to bed. Post battle was an exception, but usually, he’s up. So he doesn’t expect to fall asleep again, to end up part of the tangled mess on the floor, but he does.

When he wakes up Clint is pressed against him instead of Natasha. She’s rolled on top of him, separated from the crush. Pietro’s head is on Steve’s shins. Tony’s feet are shoved under Steve’s thighs, right next to Pepper’s. Bruce’s head is pillowed on Pepper’s stomach.

Everyone is still asleep, and Steve realizes what woke him. The ship’s captain stands in the doorway, obviously uncertain about how to proceed.

“What?” Steve nearly jumps at the unexpected voice. It’s Bucky’s sleep rasped voice. Darcy mumbles sleepily.

“We’ll be arriving in fifteen minutes, sir.” The captain responds quickly and with obvious relief at not having to wake anyone. “Mr. Stark has a boat slip reserved. We can proceed there or we can stop at the marina as planned.”

“Marina.” Steve answers, keeping his tone very low so as not to wake anyone. Bucky hears though, and repeats it for the captain.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stopped posting while I figured out if this stubby little Clint POV got cut or not. But everyone liked the puppy pile, so here, have some more. I mean, it starts with Clint is warm and happy. Who doesn't need more of that in the world?

Clint is warm and happy. It’s the best kind of sleeping. So he dozes in and out, reveling in it. He’s got a hand on Natasha, and a hand on Wanda and he’s not going to study that right now, he’s just going to enjoy it.

He had roused enough to figure out who’s beard is scratching against his arm – it’s Sam. He knows it’s only going to last so long, a group of soldiers and spies and warriors. The slightest sound could wake them, or someone will wake less than peacefully.

To his surprise, it’s Jane that wakes with a gasp, one hand flings out and makes a fist in Clint’s shirt and she sits up. “Darcy.”

There is, like, some kind of group twitch as the others jerk to attention. 

“Wha?” Darcy responds from across the room, rolling off the chair and to her feet. “Fire?”

“Where are we?” Jane moans, releasing his shirt after Darcy’s answer. 

“Boat.” Darcy answers immediately. 

“We are voyaging on Tony’s ship to the isle of Mara Luna.” Thor answers, his tone slightly gruff upon waking. “Do not fret, we are among friends.”

“But where is the coffee?” Jane asks, blearily looking around the room. She clumsily shoves her hair up into a lopsided bun and rubs at her eyes. “Why?”

“Got it.” Darcy mutters, and Clint is a little impressed at the grim determination in her tone.

“We will return victorious, my love.” Thor promises, plucking Jane up as he stands. He kisses the top of Jane’s head, then smiles at Clint and sets Jane down on Bruce’s stomach. 

Jane blinks in confusion, then tips forward while Bruce lays frozen underneath her. Jane pats his chest and her eyes slide shut again.

“Sleepy scientist.” Pepper murmurs, petting Jane’s hair. Bruce seems to clench up further, realizing he’s using Pepper’s stomach as a pillow. But Pepper winds her free hand into his hair, and eventually he relaxes again. 

Wanda kicks her foot, more of a twitch, and Clint loosens his grip on her ankle uncertainly. But her leg nudges closer, and he wraps his fingers around smooth skin again and smiles when he hears her sigh.


	24. Chapter 24

Sam is seriously trying to decide if he’s ever met someone so unexpectedly and kind-heartedly devious as Darcy Lewis. 

It’s the kind-hearted part that makes him pretty sure he hasn’t. She tricks Jane into eating, masterfully distracts Tony so Bucky can escape having his arm fussed over for another half hour, and artfully maneuvers herself so she gets first pick of food, but divvies out people’s favorites so they get some.

She’d also won a luxury float with waterproof cushions, a ladder, a built-in table and ice bucket, and thatched roof for shade. That, by bet rules, she alone would have the right to be on, and she alone would be allowed to invite others. By betting that she and Bucky could take down Steve and Natasha in a game of water chicken while they were waiting for the lunch restaurant to open. 

Sam had his suspicions that Natasha had been a double agent. They were confirmed when Natasha was immediately extended a permanent invitation onto the float. 

Devious.

But see, Sam had noticed how the whole thing also had gotten Natasha and Steve all tangled up together as Steve tried to battle Bucky but keep Nat on his shoulders. Outside of missions, Sam had never seen the two touch so much. 

Devious, and kind hearted.

“This does not look delicious.” Pietro says, and Sam looks at the seafood platter. There’s pretty much a whole octopus in the middle, but Sam loves calamari and he’s totally game.

The tables’ less adventerous eaters, Steve, Bucky, Pietro and Wanda, look less excited. Octopus probably wasn’t much of a thing back in the 1940s. And back in Sokovia Pietro and Wanda had pretty much eaten a steady diet of gruel and gristle, as far as Sam can figure. 

“You’re gonna love it.” Tony says, leaning away from the waiter as his drink is refilled. “Trust me.”

“This looks like a miniature kraken.” Thor declares. “Is it a youngling?”

“So far as we know, we don’t have kraken.” Darcy explains, patting his arm. “Is there sweet chili sauce? Oh, is that mango chutney? Give it to me.”

Bucky plucks the small bowl up and sets it in front of her. After Darcy eats a bite, scooped over a piece of squid and groans like it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten, Bucky samples some.

When Thor learns that some of the fish is actually caught by local fishermen he monopolizes the server’s time asking about their methods (spearfishing, it earns a pleased grin from the god), where they go, and where the talented hunters are so that Thor may give them his thanks.

The waiter is friendly and sees no problem with giving Thor directions to one of the fishermen’s houses. Small island life? Sam doesn’t know, but he sure as hell doesn’t take Thor up on his invitation to join him on the quest. Only Jane goes with him, and Sam wonders how that relationship works. Because it does, somehow.

Clint suggests going back to the yacht for a nap, and Sam is honestly tempted. Except, island. The closest Sam had come to island hopping was the time his uncle loaded them all into the car and drove them to Myrtle Beach. They’d stayed in a friend of a friend’s house and spent their days camped out on crowded beaches eating lunch meat sandwiches. Sam had shared a bed with his cousin who was afraid of the drain monsters in the shower, which had meant sandy sheets for the entire week. 

“What about hiking up to those ruins the guy at the marina mentioned?” Sam suggests.

“Napping. That sounded like a good plan, I thought.” Tony says, wrapping an arm around Pepper’s waist. “There are actually bedrooms, you know?”

“A hike sounds wonderful.” Pepper kisses Tony’s cheek. 

“I agree.” Steve shares a smile with Pepper, no doubt over their freakily easily acomplished trek up the mountain that first day. 

“Uh, I already hiked. I only do that voluntarily once a year.” Tony shakes his head. 

“I’m hammock shopping.” Darcy delcares, pointing down the hill towards the outdoor market. 

Pietro makes a face of distaste at the choices offered. Sam can definitely see how a group hike wouldn’t be appealing. “I want to see this war ship.”

“Now you’re talking.” Sam says, tossing an arm over Pietro’s shoulders. “Anyone with us?”

“I will shop with Darcy.” Wanda declares.

“Warship.” Tony mutters.

Everyone silently move to join others. Natasha goes on the hike, Bruce joins the warship tour, and Bucky and Clint choose to accompany Darcy and Wanda. 

The last Sam sees of any of them is Darcy and Bucky with their hands clapsed between them, and Wanda and Clint walking side by side as they walk down the hill. 

Sam is absolutely certain that Tony offered the man who drove them to the warship too much money. Why else would a man who obviously not only didn’t know how to drive but had probably never heard of a car before agree to drive them? 

Luckily Bruce is used to keeping his cool, Pietro probably never gets motion sickness, and Tony and Sam fly all the time. No one pukes, but Sam is pretty sure they almost die a few times.

As they board the boat Sam notices Pietro is slurping a pink ice drink.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Sam asks, looking around the small park area. 

“Do you want one?” Pietro asks after a second, and they say yes because it’s so hot Sam feels like his shirt is a second skin. 

Those fools were actually hiking in this?

Pietro blurs. Sam turns in circle, eyes narrowed as he tries to find the source, even in the distance. It’s a few minutes before Pietro returns, cradling four drinks. Tony automatically hands the green one to Bruce. 

See, Sam explains to Steve later, there was the awful ride, and then the smoothies, and Sam doesn’t feel like he should really be held accountable for anything that happened after that and SHIELD is shutting down the footage almost as soon as it’s hitting the web. 

Plus, it was really, really cool. Tony promised to keep the footage and their pictures on Jarvis’ servers where SHIELD couldn’t get to it. And the crew and the military and the government hadn’t even been mad, they’d just wanted pictures with the Avengers at the finish line.


	25. Chapter 25

“You can go ahead.” Wanda offers, nodding her chin towards Darcy and Bucky. The other two are examining clay sculptures to hang outdoors. There are suns, moons, stars and various creature’s faces. It seems much more likely to be of interest to Clint than the clothing at the booth Wanda has stopped to peruse.

Clint shrugs one shoulder and plants his feet. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, making it impossible to see his expression. It is very tempting to glean his temperament from his mind, but Wanda works very, very hard around Clint to never read him, even accidentally.

It has probably improved her control more than anything else she’s done in the past year, but it often leaves her with headaches at the end of the day.

“I have always liked long skirts.” Wanda says, turning away from him. She wants to talk, because if they don’t, and he keeps standing there, hands clasped behind his back, face blank, she’ll feel like she has a watcher again. A guard, to keep her from doing things she shouldn’t.

Steve keeps promising that those days are over. Wanda sneaks a peek at Clint, trying to shake off the sudden suspicion that he _is_ only here as a set of eyes. Perhaps not a guard or captor, but a babysitter? But no, she and Pietro had been permitted out on their own several times. Wanda had extended her consciousness to check for surveillance parties, and had found none on those excursions.

In the back of her mind, she feels a sudden welling of a tentative consideration. For a moment, it wants to spread and become her own. But it is not hers, it is Pietro’s and she keeps it separate easily. She does wonder what her brother is doing with Sam, Tony and Bruce.

Tony had extended an invitation to Pietro yesterday. To visit him in New York, stay in the tower for a time, while Tony worked on a new uniform that will last longer. The current one ends up with holes worn through the inner thighs and over the ribs.

A warm hand wraps around her wrist and Wanda jerks.

Clint lets go, holding the hand slightly up, palm out in reassurance. “Maybe ease up there.”

Wanda looks down at her hands, and sees she’s rubbing the fabric of a skirt between her fingers. As soon as she notices the red glow she clamps down, and it disappears like a candle blown out.

_Churros! Churros! CHURROS!_

She squeezes her eyes shut, for just a second. The bright day receding, one less sense pounding at her mind. The market is noisy around them, the sun beats down, the smell of roasted meat wafts from a stall down the road. Then she focuses on the glee she’s getting from Darcy.

“Darcy would like us to know that she’s found churros. She is very excited about it.” Wanda says, opening her eyes again. Clint had been looking down at her with a furrowed line between his brows, but a smile breaks over his face at her words.

He swivels, neck craning to look for Darcy and Bucky.

Wanda steps away, picking up a few more of the skirts and making an offer to the vendor. The tiny wrinkled man watches her in a way that leaves no question that he’d seen her little loss of control. He says nothing though, bartering for a higher price.

It is automatic to convert the money she hands over to American dollars, and then to Sokovian coin. It only follows that she imagines what she and Pietro could have bought with it, back home. Food. Shoes. Maybe safe passage over a wall to another neighborhood farther away from the war zone.

But now they have plenty of money. Jarvis had helped them set up a bank account, where most of it went. She also kept some hidden in various places, as did Pietro. Putting the money in the bank, in someone else’s hands, had been hard. Jarvis had explained to them how it was the only way that made sense. Besides, he had helped them set up more than one, at different banks. Some under other names. And in some, the money was hidden in lock boxes.

“Can you tell where she is?” Clint asks, standing on the tips of his toes in an attempt to see over the heads of the other shoppers.

“No.” Wanda feels a frisson of unease. She doesn’t want to talk about her powers with Clint. She’d rather talk about sailing, because he’d smiled at her then, bright and open, with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She’d rather talk about burned hot dogs, or frosted pop tarts, or Pepper’s shiny red car that they both appreciated.

“I thought you could.”

Wanda shrugs, like she can shrug this topic away. Let it fall from her shoulders and be left behind as they weave through the crowd. “I could, if I tried. But it would be like hacking a friend’s security cameras to see if they are in their living room. An invasion, even if nothing is meant by it.”

Invasion. She wishes she hadn’t used that word. He tenses slightly beside her.

_By the striped blue tent with the orange sock flag! Get here before Bucky eats them all, and by Bucky I  might mean me!_

“Darcy just realized we wouldn’t be able to find her. She’s says they are by the blue striped tent with the-“ Wanda sees the orange sock, snapping in the breeze. “There. She also says Bucky is eating all of the churros.”

“Barnes!” Clint grabs Wanda’s wrist and tugs her along behind him, making a bee-line for the tent she’d pointed out. As they draw closer, Wanda can smell frying bread and sweet sugar and cinnamon.

He’s only distracted briefly when a pair of helicopters fly overhead, peering up and lifting his sunglasses. Wanda takes the lead, pulling him by his grip on her arm. Darcy and Bucky sit on a low brick wall, several cardboard trays in front of them. Both are leaning over, attempting to eat their treats without making a mess.

Clint snags two of the trays in some kind of fancy jump and tumble that would have a name, that Natasha would probably try to teach Wanda at some point. Natasha would be disappointed, but then Wanda would know the name the next time Clint did it.

He holds out one of the trays, so Wanda goes to sit between him and Darcy. She’s on her second churro, sharing a little plastic bowl of dipping chocolate with Clint, when the abrupt sound of a fog horn disrupts the normal sounds of the market. It blows three long times. There’s an answering horn, big and loud.

“That sound like an old warship horn to anyone else?” Clint asks.

“It was.” Bucky looks over his shoulder. He’s in a position where he can see down one of the alleys that lead straight to the water. When he’d first come to the compound, he’d projected his thoughts so loudly it was impossible for Wanda to not hear.

And all he’d thought about then had been exits, escape plans, faster and faster. Wanda would never look at plumbing the same.

“What the hell are they doing?” Clint shields his eyes from the sun with one hand to look up at the sky and watches three more helicopters go by.

“Steve is gonna come down.” Bucky says.

“What did anyone expect with _that_ group?” Darcy demands, licking her fingers. It distracts Bucky. Darcy shakes her head and smiles as the horn blows again. “They are bonded only by their trolliest troll hearts. As soon as Steve figures it out, we’re all going to be sorry.”

“Like you and me wont be on Team Troll.” Clint scoffs, tossing a palm frond at her. He uses her distraction to reach behind her back and hook a finger in one of her trays.

Bucky’s arm snaps out, fingers flicking against Clint’s forearm in a place, or a way, that makes Clint jerk and curl in on himself in some kind of involuntary response.

“Fucker.” Clint mutters, rubbing his forearm.

Wanda tips two of her churros into his tray. “Just know, if these were Thor’s pancakes, I’d watch you starve.”

“Cold, woman.” Clint says, but he’s already dipping one of the churros.

Wanda casts her awareness, searching for her brother. Her vision goes slightly blurred, Clint in the sunshine, a bright yellow sun umbrella behind him.

“They are racing the warship against Tony’s yacht. The militia has come to offer their assistance. It seems friendly.”

“You’re watching people in their living rooms?” Clint says lowly in her ear, but his tone curious rather than accusatory. Still, Wanda feels prickling at her neck.

“It’s Pietro.” She says in explanation. It explains everything, but perhaps not for Clint. “I have been in his mind, and he in mine, since before I could control it, since before he knew about projecting. To him, it is just another sense I have, just like his speed is normal to me. To him, it is just like hearing him speak aloud, or seeing him with my eyes. And to me, Pietro just moves that way. It was probably more strange to me when others couldn’t move as fast as him, after we had been kept from others for so long.”

The longer she talked, the more tense and exposed she felt. Pietro’s excitement and mischievousness fades from the back of her mind, and instead she feels pointed questioning. She pushes at him, frustrated.

It apparently is reassurance enough that she’s okay, his pushiness recedes.

“Alright?” Clint asks. He’s shifted closer somehow, barely moving but making it so his broad shoulders block out most of the small courtyard. Slowly, he moves his hand forward. It wraps around her wrist again, warm and tight, anchoring in the here and now, outside of her head.

Wanda stares down at his blunt, calloused fingers. She feels her heartbeat. The soft breeze. His thumb makes a soft sweep over her pulse point. She feels present.

Sometimes Pietro is her maypole, and she runs circles around him, a long ribbon tying her in place. Other times, she is his maypole. Sometimes they forget to decide and they are lost together.

She can’t help but admire what a strong anchor Clint is. How steady and assured he is, how he is who he is without apologies. How he plants his feet, and stands against the tide. She can’t unsee it, after the battle against Ultron. When he’d dragged her down in the middle of her panic, and somehow had created a quiet moment. When his eyes and the sound of his voice had pulled her back from the edge, and then his words had put her on her feet again.

Not orders, though. He hadn’t ordered her to do anything. He’d made her choices clear. Made his stance, on steadier ground, clear to her.

“Wanda.” Clint says.

She smiles. Snapping out of it, proving she’s fine. “We should go. I want to be at the finish line of a race Piet can lose.”

That makes him grin.

Then, grounded, completely present in her own mind and body, nearly overwhelmed by the thumping of her heart, she turns her wrist over and slides her hand so they are palm to palm.

He doesn’t look away when his fingers lace with hers.


	26. Chapter 26

Natasha flips herself up the rock face without thinking about it. They’re trying to reach the top, eastern side so they can see down into the bay and river. To investigate the sound of helicopters and urgent boat horns.

No one is answering their phones. It either means there has been a coordinated three pronged attack leaving each of their other groups unable to stop fighting for their lives to answer the phone, or someone has done something stupid and no one wants to fess up yet.

Natasha’s money would be on the warship group, because Tony, Sam, Bruce and Pietro? But Clint. Natasha knows Clint.

So she flips herself up the rock face, easily finding handholds and propelling herself from place to place. It is a challenge that gives her the slightest amount of pleasure, because the obstacle is unknown to her. It’s the without thought that has her pausing momentarily as she crests the cliff.

A rapid glance downwards sees Steve and Pepper proceeding much more slowly, but very competently. Steve is keeping pace with Pepper, and just a bit below her. They had not set up ropes or harnesses, so Steve is Pepper’s safety rope.

Natasha had turned her back on them, without worry. She’d moved to the best of her ability, not sparing a thought about hiding her capabilities or protecting her weak spots.

Her heart thuds in her chest.

Steve’s eyes meet hers, blue and bright in the sun. He tips his chin, wordlessly telling her to go on, his focus snapping back to Pepper as the woman loses her footing. Pepper catches herself, hanging from her finger tips. She smiles fiercely and swings herself to the side, to try a different foothold.

Natasha scrambles over the edge of the cliff, then darts through the sparse trees. Rocks and pebbles scatter under her feet and she ruthlessly corrects herself, so she moves silently. At the edge, the mountain falls away. It’s at least a two hundred foot drop on this side.

She can see the entire island here. Beach rimmed, cerulean blue water surrounded. Even the warship and the yacht chugging down the river, neck in neck. Six helicopters hover over them. Natasha squints, studying the copters.

No one is manning the guns that she can see. No one is hanging out of the doors, ready to deploy down cables to swarm the warship.

Satisfied, she turns on her heel.

Pepper is almost to the top when Natasha looks back down the smaller cliff face, so Natasha offers a hand. The other woman’s hand is damp with sweat and has the grit of the rocky soil clinging to her finger.

“They have stolen the warship and are now competing with it in a race against Tony’s yacht.” Natasha reports. “It appears as if the local military is currently participating in the race.”

Steve and Pepper share a look. The two people who would handle a PR nightmare if one arose. There is exasperation there, caution. Also twitching lips.

“This way?” Pepper says, already stomping through the underbrush.

“What was that earlier?” Steve asks, watching Pepper over Natasha’s shoulder. Once the crashing footsteps fade, he looks directly at Natasha.

“Earlier?” Natasha asks, raising her chin. Daring him to push it.

His eyes narrow. “You looked afraid, for a half a second. I want to know why.”

Ice spears through Natasha’s chest. It splinters through her heart, and she lets it. Embraces it, like she’d learned. So it can freeze her emotions while they are useless to her. She lets it bleed into her eyes. Most others flinch when they see this look, they are rightfully afraid, but Steve just frowns.

Her entire body shifts with it. Ready, deadly, filled with terrible potential. Competent. Unbeatable. Untouchable.

“Nothing you need to be concerned about, Captain.” Natasha says, and she hears how hard her voice is. She turns, needing to escape his gaze.

She bites the inside of her cheek when she recognizes an unfamilar sensation. Tears burn in her eyes.

She keeps her back to him, because she can do nothing else. She doesn’t know how to bare herself, to show him her few remaining soft places. She’d guarded them so viciously for her entire life. Instead, she undrapes all her razor sharp edges, she stabs out at him.

Shows him how barren and inhospitable she is.

She doesn’t want to push him away, to prove to him what so many others think they know. She doesn’t want him to realize that he’ll slice himself to ribbons on her, only to peel back her defenses to find more sharpness and cold.

But she can’t. And so she doesn’t, moving through the trees to Pepper’s side. Pepper holds a pair of binoculars, and a water bottle is open at her feet.

“There is a party at the finish line. Clint, Darcy, Bucky, Wanda, Jane and Thor are there.” Pepper says, not lowering the binoculars. “The military seems to have split. The sea unit is on the yacht, the land unit is helping power the warship.”

Pepper hands the binoculars to Natasha, who immediately scans the crowds gathered under brightly colored streamers. There are long tables of food, and a small stage has been erected.

She finds Clint first, her eyes long used to picking him out. He’s holding hands with Wanda and smiling at something Bucky is saying.

Natasha releases her cheek, dabs at the slightly coppery taste of blood with tip of her tongue, then breathes out, clearing her mind. She focuses on Wanda. The other woman’s eyes dart as she takes in her surroundings. She is obvious, untrained. Natasha shakes that thought off. Instead, she thinks at Wanda, like Darcy said she did.

_Wanda. Wanda. Wanda. Wanda._

The other woman doesn’t react. It could be the distance. It could be the crowd. But Natasha knows it’s not. Even when she wants to, Natasha can’t let her guard down. Wanda says Natasha is the hardest to get a read on, even over Bucky whose mind sometimes instinctively attacks Wanda’s presence.

“Think at Wanda, Cap.” Natasha says, gritting her teeth.

Steve and Wanda had only just started practicing his attempting mental communication with her. Short things, orders, when she focused on Steve at some kind of sign.

After a minute, Natasha sees Wanda jerk and go straight and stiff. It would bother Steve, if he’d seen it. He wants to earn Wanda’s and Pietro’s friendship and trust. He wants the pair to see him as something other than the man who’s orders they have to follow.

Part of Natasha rises up, ready to elbow Steve, tell him to think something nice.

Whatever he thinks next must be a little better. Wanda’s anxious look, building to her battle face, lessens. She still remains altered from the relaxed state she’d been in, almost leaning against Clint, and instead stands with straight shoulders.

Clint leans close, says something in her ear. Wanda responds, and Clint scans their surroundings. He starts nearby, checks all the rooftops, but he ends up looking out at the mountain.

They share a short conversation, then Clint puts his arm over Wanda’s shoulders. Wanda nods, and relaxes minutely. Natasha can watch the other woman let it go with each breath.

Natasha hands the binoculars back, and Pepper passes them along to Steve.

“I think Jane just convinced them to send a helicopter for us.” Steve says, and Natasha wonders if his voice was as brisk in Wanda’s head.

“I’ll scout for a probable landing place.” Natasha says, but she waits for Steve’s nod. She doesn’t run away. She fights. Even when she doesn’t want to.

There is no relaxing once she’s away from them. She’s working now. It’s not usually such a jarring transition. Usually, at least one part of her is always working. This trip has obviously affected her more than she’d realized.

Standing in the clearing, she can’t help but feel it’s a bad thing. It had made her feel like there was a chance. A chance at something she’d given up, accepted was not for her, long, long ago.

Trust. Softness. Warmth. Love.

Natasha turns her head, like she can veer off that path in her mind. Because it hurts. And she doesn’t let anyone hurt her anymore.


	27. Chapter 27

Darcy is conniving and brilliant. She really is pretty chuffed, which means she can’t stop smiling even as Bucky kisses her. And something she’s discovered about her and Bucky? Gold medal, first place, world record breaking best kissers ever.

They’re just through a doorway that Bucky had to duck to get through. It’s one of those ones that is like a vault, with a spinning handle that seals it. And he has her pinned to a metal wall, and holy hell does he feel good.

Darcy plants her feet and pushes against him. He makes this noise in his throat, questioning, a little whiny. But he eases up. She takes advantage and pushes him back against the opposite wall, practically climbing him.

That pleased, raspy hum he makes? Yes please, she’d like some more.

Something zaps against her thigh. Darcy nips at his bottom lip and pulls back. She’s a little dizzy, which had not been part of her plan. But she slides back down his body and steps back. “Picture time!”

“What?” His eyes are dark with desire, blown out. Darcy’s conviction wavers, and then she chucks it out the window with other useless things like breathing and common decency and the knowledge that she might get arrested for having sexual relations in public.

“It is time.” Wanda says, reaching through the doorway to grab Darcy’s wrist and, after a second, Bucky’s.

Bucky looks down in surprise. That’s probably the only reason Wanda is able to tug him into motion. Darcy feels only a little bitter at pastDarcy who had come up with this plan and tows him along as well.

She gets him into position, going up on tip toe to kiss him again, slipping him a little tongue to keep him distracted, and then she hurries out of the frame.

“Smile Avengers!” One of the photographers call and Bucky blinks in surprise, looking around. The Avengers are surrounded by the two military squadrons turned racing crews.

“C’mon gorgeous, smile!” Darcy yells, and Bucky’s eyes find her behind the photographers. Darcy gives him a wink, lets her desire well up again, so she’s sure it shows on her face.

His grin is wolfish, and Darcy laughs in delight.

“Let us feast!” Thor bellows, and a cheer goes up.

Darcy can’t help rolling her eyes even as she grins. This crowd. She’s pretty sure these guys could suggest just about anything and the crowd would cheer and rush to help them.

The party gets merged with the beach party. Darcy has all of those butterflies that she loves. She has ever since the first time she experienced them, at the local bowling alley on black light night when she’d seen Mattie Wilkerson in a whole new light (both literally and figuratively, man the green bands on his braces had glowed so bright, and Darcy’s twelve year old heart had flipped right over in her chest when he’d agreed with her defense of the Sith).

She sees Bucky heading towards her, to ride to the new party spot with her. She also sees him get waylaid by Steve. Instead, Darcy ends up sharing a car with Wanda, Sam, and Natasha. Sam roughly diverts them away from the green Mercury Sable Darcy had headed towards, only shaking his head vehemently.

At the beach there are hundreds of tiki torches, only giant ones. Darcy is kind of tempted to get Thor to run a few laps on the beach carrying one like the Olympic Torch, but she resists.

Someone shoves a fancy drink in her hands as soon as her feet hit sand. Darcy abandons it on a nearby table, and takes Wanda’s as well. No way she’s drinking something she didn’t see get made, and that had been true since her worries had been date rape. Now she had scheming paparazzi and nefarious nemeses to account for.

Wanda holds her hand tightly as they make their way through the crowd, passing a giant stage. The speakers are so loud that Darcy’s hair is blown away from her face when she passes too close.

Awesome.

They’ve been in line for about ten minutes, inching slowly towards the bar, when a waiter stops by, offering a tray and pointing. Darcy’s eyes follow, and Pepper waves from a table farther down the beach, points to the waiter and nods.

“I am Isadora!” The waiter says, flashing a quick smile. “I will make sure your drinks are not empty. Also Michel and Peter.”

Isadora points out two young men, also wearing white blazers.

“Good enough for you?” Darcy asks Wanda and the other woman nods, taking a drink.

“Thanks Isadora.” Darcy says, grabbing a reddish drink rimmed with cut fruit. She catches sight of Bucky in the crowd, and feels that welling of excitement and nerves.

Something has changed for her. She’s crossed that line. She wants him, wants to take him to bed, and more, she knows she’s going to. She’d seen it in his eyes. And hadn’t Tony said there were beds on the yacht?

“Buck!” Darcy yells, standing on her tip toes to see and be seen over the crowds. The sun is sinking in the sky, turning the light pink. There’s an energy to the crowd as both locals and visitors gather for the night. It doesn’t seem possible that he’ll hear her, but his head snaps to the side and his eyes find her.

When he appears at her side, he’s got Steve with him. Steve who looks kind of glum and angry all at once.

Not Captain America glum and angry, which would be over things like high school drop out rates and reductions in social services. Or states fighting against the supreme court’s decision on gay marriage and the NSA hacking phones. (Darcy does not actually know Captain America that well, she’s just assuming those are the things that would take the wind out of the sails of a man who loves and defends all things American).

No, he looks Steve Rogers glum and angry. (Darcy does not actually know Steve Rogers that well either, but she thinks she knows enough to figure this has something to do with Natasha). Especially after seeing the pair of them so happy to be in each other’s orbits yesterday swimming by the floats.

Is she going to go try to relationship counsel a super spy? Darcy tips her head and throws back the rest of her drink. As she’s squaring her shoulders, another drink, this one blue, is held in front of her.

“You guys are good.” Darcy says to Peter. He nods and smiles.

_How do you feel about kissing Clint?_ Darcy thinks at Wanda.

Wanda raises an eyebrow.

_Pretty sure he’s holed up with Nat, and I’m taking my life in my hands to try to fix Steve’s sad face. ‘Cuz I’m pretty sure her face is sad too._ Darcy clarifies.

_I feel favorable about kissing Clint. Do you think he feels favorable about kissing me? I am not so sure of this. He is very-_

Darcy smooshes her hand against Wanda’s lips, ignoring the way Steve and Bucky look on in confused amusement. “Shut your face right now. I am telling you, one hundred percent guaranteed, Darcy Lewis gold standard, yes. Now, are you in?”

“Should we be worried?” Steve asks, arching a brow. And damn does he have that look down. But she can tell he’s putting it on a little, trying to act like he hasn’t been the equivalent of kicked in the nuts. Darcy is gonna assume Bucky will be all over the ‘what did you do/what happened’ with Steve, so she’ll cover Natasha.

“Are you worried?” Darcy asks Bucky, and hell, looking at him makes her want to forget all about being a good Samaritan. She wants to steal him away to the dance floor, to one of the tables, someplace where she can hold his hand and play with his fingers, where she can kiss him, where he might hold onto her hips again in that fuck hot way he did earlier.

“Not a bit.” Bucky grins, eyes flashing, sweeping over her from head to toe. “Lookin’ forward to seein’ what you get up to, doll.”

Well. It might not be what her mother looks for, but Darcy’s insides are definitely screaming keeper.

_Do you have a plan?_ Wanda asks, and the nerves that come along with those words nudges Darcy back out of her Bucky haze.

“Of course I have a plan. Grab one of those pineapples and follow me.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Well. This is fun.” Clint kicks his feet so they swing, like a child.

Natasha ignores him, scanning the mass of people twenty meters down the beach, swathed in the glow of the tiki torches and the bonfire. Sam is closest to the spot she and Clint had found, tucked in the shadows. But he is entirely focused on a pretty blonde woman with an uneven smile and a crooked nose.

Natasha can find every one of the team and their plus ones in under fifteen seconds. Tony and Pepper are dancing incredibly closely, and Tony is schmoozing and Pepper is allowing it, enjoying it with that secret smile that only comes out in public on rare occasions. Natasha does not examine the part of herself that likes seeing it.

Pietro, Bruce, Jane and Thor are still at the thatch roofed bar, sitting underneath a glowing parrot. They are drinking blended margaritas and playing some kind of bingo game. Bruce has a big blue blotch of ink from the bingo daubers on his left cheek.

Natasha skims her eyes back towards the stage where Steve and Bucky stand with.... Steve and Bucky have moved farther from the stage and now stand together, heads tipped close, each holding a beer bottle.

“Incoming.” Clint’s voice is quiet. Like always, he knows exactly what she’s doing.

She’s watched Pietro and Wanda communicating telepathically, working together that way. She’s concluded that it would be a distraction between her and Clint at this point. It would interfere with the way they read each other after years of learning each other in the worst of situations. Natasha doesn’t need his thoughts in her head, she can see the way the tendons of his left arm tighten, the slight crinkling of the skin around his right eye, the minuscule shift of his weight.

“I guess we’re not talking about this?” Clint says, not letting it go. She can see Wanda and Darcy approaching. Wanda still holds her red drink, but Darcy now carries a blue one Natasha hadn’t seen delivered. “Tash?”

“Have you guys considered the subconscious implications of the fact that you left an organization called SHIELD to follow a man known for his shield?” Darcy asks as she draws closer. The other woman walks awkwardly, still wearing the flimsy sandals she’d started the day in. They shift and sink in the sand, and slide on her feet. There are red lines on the tops of her toes.

Darcy hands Natasha a pineapple, practically shoving it against Natasha’s stomach.

“What is this for?” Natasha asks, praying it’s not for some kind of game. Limbo or that game where you have to pass the fruit without using your hands? She looks to Clint, because he’ll be her partner if they get roped in. He’ll bail her out.

Wanda is kissing Clint. Clint’s hands rest lightly at Wanda’s waist, and Wanda’s fingertips barely brush against his forearms. It’s a hesitant first kiss, headed to more.

“Come on, I need to rinse my feet off. Look at this. Gross.” Darcy clumsily climbs the wooden fence Natasha had been leaning against, almost tipping over once. A voice Natasha quickly squashes says _unacceptable_.

Natasha searches for the correct reaction. Her arm jerks upward, offering a steadying hand. The move is awkward and would stick out to any observers. The pineapple is sticky in her other hand.

“Thanks.” Darcy clamps her fingers around Natasha’s and hops off the other side of the fence.

“Why are you here?” Natasha traverses the fence in a simple step.

“I noticed your sad face. I noticed Steve’s sad face. I thought you might like a friend to talk with.” Darcy looks around surreptitiously, then hunches over a little to discreetly pour her drink out. “Do _not_ tell Peter I didn’t like his drink.”

“Who is Peter?”

“We can talk about Peter, we can talk about rascally scientists, we can talk about those slime monsters I totally know nothing about, promise, or lots of other things, or Steve. Whatever.” Darcy grabs onto Natasha’s arm to brace herself as she pulls first one shoe and then the other off, wobbling the entire time. Then she tosses her hair back and grins. “It would not be exaggerating to say that I am an awesome friend, and I am offering my friendship services to you.”

“You are here on Steve’s behalf.”

“Um, no. I hardly know Steve. I hardly know you. So it was my choice which one of you got my awesome friend skills tonight, and you won the friend lottery.” Darcy’s voice is slightly muffled as she rinses her feet in the ocean. The sandals get the same treatment. The leather would be ruined. “Alright, come on. Let’s steal one of those cabanas.”

Natasha doesn’t say that the cabanas are for hotel guests, and that Tony had likely bought out an entire floor in said hotel. It would be irrelevant to the woman she follows silently.

“C’mere, put your head in my lap. This is what I do when Jane hates her life.” Darcy plops ungainfully onto one of the lounge couches and pats her thigh. “The conversation can totally pass the Bechdel test if you want. With Jane it’s usually what did Science do to you, or more recently, what did Tony say. It occurs to me that last one might be relevant in this situation.”

Natasha stares back at the other woman. This woman she hardly knows. Other than what research had turned up.

“Come on. I’ll braid your hair, and if any woman says she doesn’t like that, she’s a liar. It should go on the supervillain question list.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You seem like you need a friend.”

“Why do I have this pineapple?”

“It’s our pineapple baby. They were going to _eat_ it, Nat.” Darcy pats the spiky green top. Natasha eyes the other woman’s slightly blue tinged lips, wondering just what was in those drinks. But no, Darcy’s eyes showed no evidence of drunkenness. Trusting her instincts, Natasha raises a brow to prompt further explanation. “Just think Nat, it’s going to be so fun watching them keep little Frederick safe. We won’t tell them why, we’ll just say it’s important.”

“Take Frederick.” Natasha holds out the pineapple, then once her hands are free lays down on the couch, placing her head in Darcy’s lap.

Darcy immediately combs her fingers through Natasha’s hair, and Natasha fights a sigh of contentment.

“I should see if Bucky likes this. He would look like a hot pirate with a braid.” Darcy says, then hums. “Mmm. Yep. Trying that out later.”

“I cannot trust him.” Natasha says, surprising herself. Only Darcy’s fingers, gently winding through her hair, kept her in place. She had the strangest urge to leave. Not to run. She’d do a perimeter check, then find a good spot to keep an eye on everyone.

“Steve?” Darcy asks. “Or Bucky, since we were just talking about his promising pirate potential?”

Natasha shakes her head slightly at Darcy’s huff of a laugh at her alliteration. Infants. Natasha is surrounded by fools with the humor of juveniles. In some ways, Natasha thinks Darcy and Clint share a brain.

“Steve.” Darcy says with a nod, her chin bobbing down towards Natasha when Natasha doesn’t answer. “That’s understandable.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Don’t get stabby.” Darcy bounces one leg, bobbling Natasha’s head a little. “I’m not mocking you. At all.”

“He’s Captain America.”

“Yup. And I totally trust him to fight the bad guys, the Man, and injustice everywhere.” Darcy grabs one of Natasha’s hands and brings it up to hold a braid in place, seemingly unfrightened, unintimidated. Natasha tries to think of another person that had known who she was, what she was capable of, that had treated her this way. And she can’t. Even Clint had been cautious. “But a personal relationship is different. Everyone fucks up in those, and it _hurts_. Most of the time, they don’t work out. Even relationships that do work sometimes end.”

“You are terrible at this.” Natasha says, and then can just barely see Darcy’s smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Dude, I’m honest. I have standing plans to abscond to a winery in France and have an all girl commune if Thor fucks up with Jane. They’re going strong, so it’s been looking unlikely, but hey, now I’ve got you. And Wanda.”

“Not Pepper?”

Darcy shrugs a shoulder.

“You should invite Pepper.” Natasha suddenly wishes for a drink. “She’s hard to read, it throws people off and they don’t give her a chance.”

Eventually Darcy asks Wanda to send someone with drinks, and Natasha returns the favor regarding the hair. They have four drinks over the next hour, and conversation plots an unpredictable path.

Natasha hears about the time Darcy lured Jane out of the lab with a trail of pop-tart pieces, Wild Thornberrry Limited Release Edition, of course, super hard to find. And also the time Darcy ate matcha meatballs from a questionable food stall in Norway because she was so desperate for something not pickled or fish, and ended up stuck in a toilet stall in a lab outpost for thirteen hours. And also about Darcy waiting in line for eight hours for an xbox on release night when she was sixteen.

And Natasha finds herself responding in kind. She talks about the time Clint holed up in his hideous apartment after the end of his relationship with Bobbi, and she had to force him out. He’d been weakened from lack of food and she’d easily been able to overpower him and cuff him. And about the time she ate perogies in Yucatan because she missed home, and spent an entire surveillance mission quietly puking in a pink plastic trash can while covering her mics. And about her standing reservations at several Broadway theatres.

It is nothing important. Nothing damaging. But it is private, and for some reason, it calms the unexpected swirl of discontent within Natasha. When the horn blows outside their cabana, and the start of the feast is announced, they both stand.

“Hey Nat?” Darcy says, just before they leave. “It might be spysassin stuff that has you freaking over this. But it might also just be normal relationship stuff too. Relationships are scary and hard. It’s normal to freak a little, especially if it’s real and important, which it seems like you and Steve are.”

And the discontent, and worry, and anxiety, and anticipation, and hope, and a hundred other things are back. It is a distraction, it is not ordered, it is not efficient. It had been trained out of her in the Red Room.

Locked away inside of her, instead of gone completely. And unlocked for Steve.

“So that’s my two cents, as an intern scientist wrangler, for what it’s worth. Now lets get some food in me, before I get frisky.” Darcy winks and ducks through the cabana’s draped opening.

Natasha again follows her across the sand, back towards the party lights and the music. They find Clint and Wanda first. They stand side by side holding hands.

Darcy shoves the pineapple into Clint’s stomach. “Take care of this, it’s important.”

“It’s called Frederick.” Natasha says as she passes him, enjoying the way his eyes go both confused and pleased at once.


	29. Chapter 29

Sam doesn’t know how he and Bruce end up in charge of the pineapple named Frederick. He does know he’s drunk, and that’s why Bruce had to co-parent, as Stark had said when he handed it off.

He also knows his phone has been blowing up all night with pictures of Frederick having the time of his pineapple-y life. Frederick had played limbo balanced on Pepper’s stomach, had gone on stage with the lead singer for a song, and had leapt across the bonfire in Pietro’s arms. He’d also acquired a bow tie at some point.

Sam is the one that loses Frederick. He tries to share the blame with Bruce, which he feels mildly bad about, but Stark had said they were co-parenting. That meant Bruce should have seen when Sam messed up and lost poor Freddie.

(Poor Freddie is moaned again and again and again by the others for years. Years Sam hears about this shit. It doesn’t help that the media gets ahold of pictures from that night, and for some reason the pineapple spikes the public’s interest. Once the name is tossed out there, the internet swoons and Frederick is a sensation. It means the photos end up in the weirdest places, and every time someone sees it, Sam is treated to an over dramatic _Freddie!_ )

The problem is that Thor had put Freddie’s bow tie around Jane’s neck so she could look dashing for her go at the Macarena with Pietro and Clint. And then Sam had set Freddie down some place, and there were a hell of a lot of pineapples at an island seafood beach bash.

Pineapples every where. Which were often plucked up and sliced open with a giant machete. Sam maintains that Frederick was probably one of the pineapples that got left behind, and washed out to sea. It only earns him sad glares.

He’s really had enough, because inexplicably he feels bad enough as it is _about a damned pineapple_. What is his life now? Sam’s giving it some thought, because for better or worse he’s a philosophical drunk, as they ride the elevator up to the hotel’s top floors.

Tony had reserved several suites with multiple bedrooms each, likely as a reaction to Darcy’s late night visitors at the last hotel. Tony acts like an asshole, but he’s a pretty good guy underneath.

Darcy grabs a key out of Tony’s hand and drags Natasha and Wanda along behind her, apparently that sleeping decision made.

“Sam?” Clint face appears in front of Sam, blocking Sam’s view of the hallway. The absence of Natasha, Wanda and Darcy clues Sam into the fact that he’d zoned out. “Aw man, come on Sammy. Time for sleepy times.”

“I’m fine Clint, I don’t-“ The hallway tilts and Clint’s grip tightens. “I might need help. Unless there was just an earthquake.”

“You need help.” Bruce says, ducking under Sam’s other arm. “I told you to take it easy on the blue drinks.”

“Oh, now you’re being helpful. Co-parenting my ass.”

“Did anyone even stop to wonder where Fred came from? What if he was a bomb?” Bruce asks as they reach their door. The _547_ number plate swims in front of Sam’s eyes.

“Tasha gave him to me.” Clint says, and there’s silence for a few seconds.

“What if he was a bomb?” Bruce repeats, apparently finding the question still valid.

“Natasha does like explosions.” Sam tells them. “I think that’s ninety percent of the reason she keeps Tony around.”

“Man, that would have been a sight to see when the machete hit.”

“Dude, he’s in the ocean.” Sam says firmly as they mostly drag him to one of the bedrooms. “Just floating. In the ocean.”

“Sure, Sammy.” Clint says. “You didn’t let our pineapple baby get chopped up and fed to us.”

“ _Fed to us_?” Sam face plants onto the bed when they release his arms, the quilted coverlet squashing his nose until he turns his head to the side. The flowers in the vase next to the bed look spiky and evil in the darkness.

“What did you think the yellow chunks were in that fruit salad you ate five helpings of? And let me say, that’s gonna be fun tomorrow.” Clint sets a glass of water on the nightstand and Bruce shakes out a couple aspirin.

“Aw man. _Freddie_.” Sam moans.

The next day Sam wakes up in complete and utter misery. Seriously, he hasn’t been so hungover since his post boot camp celebration.

The absolute last thing he needs is Thor beaming down at him. But Thor, who knows nothing about moderation or subtlety, actually whispers.

It is the first time Sam has heard the man whisper. And Sam has been on three covert missions with him. Covert missions that didn’t stay covert very long.

“Greetings, friend.” Thor gently pats Sam’s sweaty shoulder. Because yeah, it’s that kind of hangover. “Do you require assistance to the bathroom?”

Verbal communication is one of those forgotten skills, along with breathing painlessly and thinking without his brain exploding. So it takes him a minute, a minute too long, and he finds himself cradled like a baby to Thor’s chest as he’s carried into the bathroom.

In the bathroom, a pillow, blanket, bottle of Gatorade, blank envelope, ice pack and heating pad wait scattered near the toilet. When Sam stops heaving, it’s a glorious thing. After carefully, oh so fucking carefully, sipping some of the Gatorade, he reaches for the envelope.

“Friend, I warn you, there is a list of items of an edible nature that you can order should you wish contained inside that envelope. It is sealed so that you do not have to look upon it until you are ready.”

Sam’s stomach flips at the very thought of food. He drops the envelope.

Once he’s feeling less likely to have another go at the toilet, Sam clutches the pillow and look up at Thor. “Is this how you do hangovers on Asgard?”

Thor frowns. “I thought this was how you do hangovers on Midgard. It is how Lady Jane and Lady Darcy take care of me and each other.”

“Bless them.” Sam mutters thankfully. “Bless them. Jane truly deserves to be queen of the universe or whatever, and does that whole lightning sister thing make Darcy a princess? Because it should.”

“Aye. Lady Darcy is a princess.”

“She is.” Sam agrees as Thor wraps the blanket around his shoulders, and Sam curls around the heat pad. “I love her. I love you.”

Later he unzips a black traveling case. There’s anti nausea medications, bandages, tea tree oil that clears the godawful taste from his mouth, and a bunch of shit he figures only makes sense to science types when compiling a hangover kit. Some of it actually helps.


	30. Chapter 30

“Are you looking for Darcy?” Clint asks as he enters the room. They’ve mostly gathered in the living room of Tony and Pepper’s suite for breakfast. “Because if you are, don’t.”

Wanda follows him, fighting a smile as he rubs his shoulder.

“Because it was awful. Plus I had a mythology lesson from Thor. Because I went to see if they wanted to come to breakfast and they’re in this nest thing in the bathroom and they’re _vicious_. Orthos, in case you were wondering, which I was not, was a two-headed dog monster. His brother was Cerebus, the three-headed dog monster, which is what they became once Thor showed up while they were squawking and throwing shit at me.” Clint collapses into a chair next to Natasha. “Why did they have blood testing kits, and why are they so heavy?”

“My Lady Jane can become anemic after a night of revelry.” Thor says regally, sweeping into the room and most definitely looking down at Clint. Steve hasn’t seen him behave that way in years. “It was unwise of you to disturb them in their convalescence.”

“No shit.” Clint glowers, rubbing his shoulder again.

“There needs to be less talking.” Tony mutters. He and Pepper sit together, both dressed impeccably but wearing sunglasses.

Steve glances around the table. Only he, Bucky, Bruce, Pietro and Thor seem to be unaffected by the previous night’s festivities and Steve fully knows that’s all thanks to increased/altered/alien metabolisms. Wanda has foregone her normal sugar overload of a breakfast for a small fruit bowl that she’s only picking at, Clint is slumped in his seat wincing at the sun, Natasha has remained silent as she plows through cup after cup of black coffee when Steve knows she prefers cream and sugar.

Sam, Darcy and Jane haven’t emerged from their rooms.

Thor’s phone blares the tinny sound of thunder crashing and most of the table winces. “Ah! Our shield brother is ready to attempt sustenance! He is like my Jane in that he requires a bountiful plate.”

Thor immediately starts piling a plate with food, checking his phone periodically. Scrambled eggs are piled on top of toast, salsa is poured over that, and then cheese. At that, Wanda leaves the table, face turned away. Thor keeps piling things on, humming lightly to himself.

“Darcy want anything?” Bucky asks.

“My lightning sister will likely require coffee in an hours time, but will not eat until this afternoon.” Thor slips his phone back into his pocket. “However, should you like to be of use to her, she would most probably be thankful for more ice.”

With a nod, Bucky leaves the table.

Steve has empty chairs on both sides until Wanda returns, gently slipping into the seat to Steve’s left. Bruce passes her bowl of fruit down the table.

Thor sticks his head back into the room. “Friends, is it known if the hotel has nacho cheese? The liquid kind?”

Wanda and Tony both make a gurgling sound. Tony darts away, but Wanda just disappears with Pietro, the air displacement they create almost sending a vase of flowers toppling.

“Less. Talking.” Pepper says firmly.


	31. Chapter 31

When Darcy opens her door a teeny, tiny crack just after noon, it’s to find Natasha staring back at her. She’d expected Thor, Jane, or Bucky.

The Bucky possibility is the reason for the door only being opened a crack and the chain being left on. Because Thor is a lovable, well-meaning idiot who had sent Bucky to her when she’d been clinging to the toilet and sweating out her hangover.

Thank Frigga Jane is the fucking best ever and had run interference. Darcy is pretty sure Bucky only got a tiny peak at her before Jane whirled into motion, shooing him out and closing the bathroom door.

Bucky had been all sweet and cajoling through the door, saying he didn’t care what she looked like. Ha! Ha. James Buchanan Barnes, hotness personified, he of the glorious washboard abs and the lips of a goddamned angel, is not seeing Darcy yakking up mai tais and the sad remains of those little shrimp bites she’d binged on last night before they do the deed.

After they do the deed, fine. Then he’d be blinded by her wiles.

She’s going to have to talk to Thor about this so he knows better next time. It’s a simple gate keeper question. Have you bumped uglies with my lightning sister? No? You shall not pass.

“Darcy?” Natasha says, one red brow quirking upwards in an unimpressed looking way.

“Darcy isn’t here right now, feel free to leave a message with her reanimated corpse.” There is a male snort out in the hall, and Darcy flinches but Clint’s face appears over Nat’s shoulder. Darcy narrows her eyes, then stops because that makes the headache from hell – barely beaten back with extra extra strength Tylenol – perk up and look around at other parts of her brain to chew on. “Laughter at my plight will earn you vengeance. Think carefully, friend. Thor loves exacting vengeance for me. It’s kind of his favorite.”

“Thor and Jane went with the others to scuba dive.” Natasha says, eyeing the chain bolt. “We promised to bring you,” Natasha rolls her eyes now, “f-o-o-d when you’re ready.”

“Ugh.” Darcy’s stomach flips over. “Don’t even spell it. That’s a thing that doesn’t exist in this room, okay? I mean it, my throat lining can’t take any more regurgitation.”

“I can see why you wanted to come here, Tash. She’s a delight.” Clint says as Darcy unhooks the chain and holds the door open.

“I will kick you in the nads, Barton. So hard.” Darcy turns on her heel and gently walks away, her blanket trailing like a cape. She’s really glad she managed to get through the shower so she doesn’t smell like sour sweat, bad decisions, and a liquor store alley.

Minutes later she’s back in her place on the couch, in her pile of pillows and blankets with her water bottles and ice cubes. She’s got cartoons on the television, and like Thor, Natasha and Clint seem to have no trouble following along in the foreign language. Thor has the whole all-speak thing, but Nat and Clint probably speak at least a few languages. Bucky speaks seven, he thinks.

“So this is what we’re doing, huh?” Clint asks, sprawled in the arm chair. One of his legs rests over the chair arm, a dusty boot at eye level. Who wears boots to the beach?

Natasha makes a noise in the back of her throat. Darcy would say it’s a mix of annoyed and threatening.

“Huh.” Clint seems completely unperturbed. Darcy is not sure what she’s been plopped into the middle of. “Not gonna talk about the red, white and blue elephant in the room then.”

Darcy does not see Natasha move. She does see Clint swat the throwing knife out of the air. It clatters across the tile floor and comes to rest next to Darcy’s wet towel near the bathroom door.

“No throwing things!” She says firmly, then turns a glare on Clint. “No elephants. Patriotic or otherwise.”

“Do you even have elephants?” Clint asks, looking at Darcy with interest.

“Do you not get how this works? I’m seriously ten seconds away from texting Thor.”

“I’ll steal your phone and be back in my seat before you can so much as emoji.” Clint promises.

“You do not need to call Thor. I promised to stand in his stead while he was gone.” Natasha tilts her head threateningly at Clint.

“We both promised that, Nat.”

“It appears only one of us is taking it seriously.”

“Yeah, and you’re probably about to start an intergalactic war or something. So drop it, Hawkass.” Darcy tells him, turning up the volume on the TV.

“Wow. You’re mean when you’re hungover.” Clint slumps down in his seat. “I should have gone scuba diving.”

“Yes. You should have.” Darcy and Natasha say in unison.

About an hour later, there’s a knock on the door. Clint vaults himself over the back of the couch, a weapon already pulled by the time his bare feet hit the floor. Darcy raises her brows and looks towards Natasha only to see the other woman now watching the window with narrowed eyes and a knife in her hand.

Well. Darcy’s mother had said she should meet different kinds of people after Jane caught the Christmas tree on fire last year and Thor ate the mistletoe thinking it was an odd Midgardian appetizer.

Clint greets the person at the door, and that must have been some kind of code, because Natasha relaxes, returning her attention to the television. They’d left the cartoons behind and are now watching a soap opera called _The Sins and Heartbreak of Yesterday_. Darcy is enjoying the fuck out of testing her Spanish vocabulary to the limit with Nat and Clint as they yell at the screen.

“Pepper sent the thing which shall not be named.” Clint says, returning to the small sitting room. One hand is behind his back.

Darcy prepares to object, her stomach actually twitches in interest and... “No fucking way.”

“What?” Clint takes a cautionary step back, but Darcy extends her hands making insistent grabby motions.

“Is that fucking food court-style Orange Chicken?” Darcy snatches the plastic bag from Clint when he gets close enough, practically ripping it open. “I don’t even want to know how Pepper knew that this is my hung over food. Or how she got it here.”

“It was on your Facebook page.” Clint shrugs that off, dropping back into his place next to her on the couch. Natasha nods.

“Imma let that one go, even though it’s crazy that you guys think it’s normal to Facebook stalk people years back.” Darcy tells them, eyes nearly crossing when she inhales the sweet-spicy goodness. “Besides, we’re missing _Sins_.”

“I fucking told you it was Dante!” Clint crows.

“It’s Diego, pretending to be Dante.” Natasha says as Darcy tips until her head is leaning against Natasha’s shoulder. She figures she’s good so long as she doesn’t drop anything on the other woman. Natasha doesn’t look away from the TV. “No way Diego died when the limo exploded.”

“It turns out they were actually triplets but the third baby was stolen at the hospital. I’m calling it now.” Darcy motions with an egg roll. “In fact, ten bucks on an evil triplet named Damien!”


	32. Chapter 32

Pietro misses their mother tongue. Wanda knows this, she understands even if for her, it is not the same. She relishes being immersed in the newness of the sounds of their new home. 

It is a constant reminder of who she is now, the foreign voices she hears in her head as she moves through the Avengers compound. Foreign words, put together in strange ways. She likes learning them, she likes the feeling she gets as they become familiar to her. Habit.

It had been a new feeling altogether, listening to the Spanish around her in the market. Strange accents, new speech patterns. Relying once again on the imagery that she could pick up, the feelings that came with the words the were an unknown scramble.

And it is something else again, hearing the voices she knows using this new language. Natasha, Clint, Pepper and Darcy are all fluent. 

They are discussing the show they’d watched for the entire boat ride back to the island. Only people who agree that it is ‘possibly the best thing ever’ are allowed on Darcy’s float.

This includes Jane, Natasha, Clint, Darcy, Pepper, Tony and Sam. Natasha had weeded out any false acolytes. (Thor, who wanted to be close to Jane and even now pouts on the wing float nearby.)

Pepper states Tony’s ability to speak Spanish to be ‘just enough to be insulting’, and Jane and Sam can’t speak it at all. 

Clint had translated, hardly looking away from the screen. But he’d been grumpy, because every time he reacted before translating, either Sam or Jane would smack him, while Tony demanded to know what was said. 

Wanda thinks that is part of the reason Clint is lying on the shield float next to her, instead of with the others up on Darcy’s float. He keeps them close enough that he can still participate in the conversation, and Wanda lies next to him, letting his familiar voice wash over her, expertly navigating the foreign sounds. 

She is in that half way place between dozing and wakefulness, her skin warmed by the sun and the saltiness of the sea on her lips, when she thinks of sailing. The breeze, the motion of the boat, the sun rise, sneaking down the long hallway and through the-

Wanda’s eyes snap open. She is still getting used to the motion of the boat – getting her sea legs Bucky says. It does not feel comforting and steady under her feet. And she has not watched a sunrise from a boat, or snuck down the hallway back at the house.

Clint is watching her, when she turns to him. He lies on his stomach, his cheek pillowed on one arm. 

“You did that on purpose.” Realization is dawning, and deep inside her heart flutters in her chest. Something rushes over her skin, equal parts apprehension and anticipation. “You...want to go sailing?”

“You heard me?”

“No. But I saw things. Images. I got, perhaps, an impression? You would like to go sailing, in the morning. Just... the two of us?”

His fingers still rest lightly against her wrist, the reason the images came through so clearly. He smiles, and Wanda feels giddy. She is uncertain if she has ever felt giddy before, but she does now.

Then she frowns, something else flickering through. “Idiot club?”

“Aw, man.” Clint turns his face into his arm, and his voice is muffled when he speaks again. “I can explain.”


	33. Chapter 33

Pictionary is not going how Sam planned. He’d figured all the weird personalities and backgrounds here would assure him a victory at a modern Earth game. The super geniuses usually didn’t think of much outside of science as far as he’d seen, plus Bruce had been on the run for so long. Thor is still learning about Earth, and with Jane and Darcy as his guide, his education has been... eclectic. Sam has recently begun to suspect that Thor actually thinks there are people who were raised in a barn, who should be pitied and forgiven for their poor manners.

Thor is on Jane’s team, which is what Sam had expected. What he had not expected? They’re somehow awesome at this. Their guesses never make a lick of sense up until they get to the right one and win. They’re in solid competition for second best team with Steve and Pepper.

Fucking Steve and Pepper. They have ice in their veins. They just calmly and logically sketch away, inevitably working up to the right answer.

But the real dark horse team in this train wreck?

Tony and Bruce. Sam refuses, he fucking refuses, to consider the possibility of those two having some kind of mental connection. Especially after Tony had offered to sit out with the other mind reader. But fuck.

At least Darcy and Bucky are sucking it up. Not that they care, which is probably why they’re losing. The effort those two are expending is clocking in at about ninety percent foreplay, five percent smart ass comments, and three percent complaining that the nachos aren’t ready.

“Come on, man.” Sam nudges Clint, who has turned in his seat to look towards the kitchen where Pietro and Wanda are in charge of the nachos. “We can make a comeback.”

Natasha snorts from her place curled up in the arm chair. She’s their referee.

Sam controls his urge to flip her off. Can’t risk pissing off the ref, they need all the help they can get.

“Give it up, Sammy.” Clint nods towards the giant pad of paper Darcy had unearthed from her room. Tony is making a big deal out of stretching his fingers. Then he draws a tall rectangle, what looks like a u, and another rectangle with wheels, maybe?

“Wallet.” Bruce guesses, and Tony does that super annoying double snap point thing that makes Sam want to break his genius fingers.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam demands.

“Darcy, it’s your turn.” Pepper calls.

Sam is stewing as he turns to the only team he’s actually beating, not all surprised to find them staring into each other’s eyes. Bucky is watching Darcy over the top of his beer, and if it wouldn’t put Sam and Clint in last place Sam would ask Natasha to throw them out of the damn game.

“Buck!” Steve throws a couch pillow, and Bucky catches it with his metal arm without looking away from Darcy. Who giggles.

“Sudden death round.” Natasha declares. “Before Wilson has an aneurysm over there. I’m timing each team, the team to guess correctly in the least amount of time wins.”

Sam doesn’t know what he’d do if Bucky and Darcy pull out a win. But Bucky guesses a crab first, like he has every time, and Darcy laughs and flips him off, like she has every time, and they take a full minute.

Steve guesses whisk in twenty-seven seconds.

Jane draws something with legs and a weird-ass tail, and Thor guesses bilgesnipe. Then Jane draws something tall, with blobs on top and maybe some flags, and Thor guesses the healing halls. They get veterinarian in thirty-two seconds.

“Don’t let me down man.” Sam moves so he’s on the edge of his seat, pushing Clint forwards.

“You know, this is a lot pressure.” Clint digs around in the red cowboy hat that holds all of the prompts.

“Get out of here with that.” The man is a fucking sniper, he’s fought aliens, and he usually partners with Natasha.

“You’re supposed to be the nice, understanding one out of us.” Clint unfolds his piece of paper and winces. “Lewis. I blame you for this one. Or Cap, actually.”

“Make or break, Wilson.” Tony goads

Clint draws a triangle with circles and blobs on it.

“Pizza! Is it pizza?!” Sam yells, ignoring his so-called friends’ laughter around him.

Clint draws a half circle, and oh shit how much time is this taking!? Triangles in the half circle, an arrow pointing to the left. Or to the kitchen?

“NACHOS!” Clint spikes the marker, but Sam is already turned towards Natasha. “How long was it woman?!?”

“Twenty-five seconds.” Natasha isn’t even trying to hide her twitching lips.

Sam pounds a hand against his chest.

“Bet we can get it in under ten.” Tony tosses out.

A hand is plastered against Sam’s mouth almost immediately.

“Don’t.” Clint advises, adjusting his grip. “You already bet all your money on _Sins_ and Jane eating that habanero pepper. Stark will humiliate you if you start betting something other than money. Trust me.”

“What’s that, bird boy? I couldn’t make that out?” Tony cups a hand around his ear.

“Ready?” Natasha holds up the stopwatch.

It looks like it’s going to turn to shit for Tony and Bruce when Bruce draws what looks to be a wobbly small dumbbell and a straight line.

“Ironing board.”

The stopwatch beeps and Natasha can’t hide her laughter. “Four seconds.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam demands, pushing Clint off. “How? How the fuck did you- How?! Just explain it to me, and I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s my face and a board.” Tony waves a hand towards the drawing pad like it’s obvious, and Bruce nods.

Clint pretty much tackles Sam back onto the couch. “Let it go, Sam. We’ve got six days left, you’ll beat them at... something, I’m sure. Nat, what can Sam beat everyone at?”

Nat grimaces. “Maybe Scene It?”

“HA!” Tony and Darcy both yell.

“Ignore them.” Clint huffs. “Hey, look at the nachos. Just look at the nachos man. Six days, we’ll find something.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last post of the night for me. I work early tomorrow. But I'll be back tomorrow evening editing and posting. It's looking like about ten chapters left, some of them small ones. Depends on if I try to stick them together or not. But we've got some Pepper POV coming up. And also Clint and Wanda's morning sail.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Steve slides the door shut behind him, and the sounds of chaos cut off.

Thor smiles in greeting. He’d been mostly hidden from view from inside by the large potted palms on one side of the porch. “Steven. The team bonding is going well, is it not?”

“I wish it could be a little less loud.” Steve confesses. “And that it hadn’t involved our coffee.”

Sam had gotten his revenge. His judgement had clearly been clouded though, because Steve can’t imagine he’d really gone into it inviting this kind of reaction. Plus, it hadn’t only pissed off Tony. Both coffee pots are broken, and it’s pandemonium.

“Pull up a pillow, Captain Cutie.”

Steve cocks his head to the side and takes three more steps, to see around the palm fronds.

Just past Thor a bright blue quilt is spread on the patio tiles. Darcy, Jane, and Wanda are sprawled with a bunch of pillows, all still wearing their pajamas. There is also a dingy white coffee pot covered in stickers, plugged into an orange extension cord that stretches towards the detached garage.

“Yes, join us shield brother. We have plenty.” Thor motions to a can of coffee and some jugs of water.

Darcy holds out a large mug that says _you go Glenn Coco_. “After that morning he stood in the coffee zone we knew it was best to have back up. We had Erik ship this bad boy to the hotel.”

Thor smiles, and Steve can’t help but laugh, even in his pre-coffee state. The juxtaposition of Thor’s genuine smile and the image of a hand with it’s middle finger raised that graces the bottom of his coffee cup is too much.

“Milk?” Thor offers, reaching for a blue cooler as there is the sound of a small, muffled explosion from inside the house. “We also have caramel macchiato and white chocolate macadamia creamers.”

Jane gives him a thumbs up when he chooses white chocolate macadamia, then he sits back against his pillow to relax in the companionable quiet as Wanda sets to brewing another pot.

After his second cup he voices his surprise that Pietro wasn’t part of the group.

“He’s had three cups, he’s just having too much fun inside.” Wanda sounds vaguely amused, but Steve is distracted by a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye.

Natasha freezes, mid-repel down the steep side of the roof. Something flashes over her face, and like always, Steve can’t translate it. It’s been worse these past few days. They haven’t spoken since the cliff, and she’d been cold and aloof. Slowly she’d softened again, but the gulf remained between them.

Steve’s lips pull up in half of a smile, and he tips his head towards the blanket in an invitation, holding his coffee cup so it’s in view.

Her eyes narrow, and she begins repelling again, changing direction so she’d head towards him.

He might have to thank Sam after all.

“Do you have another mug? Natasha is headed this way.” Steve requests, and has a cup doctored for her, with the caramel macchiato creamer and two spoonfuls of sugar by the time she arrives.

“Aw, Nat-Nat.” Darcy says, looking Natasha up and down. “Rough morning, huh? C’mon, lay down.”

Darcy pats her lap.

To Steve’s surprise, Natasha does. Jane plunks a crazy straw in Natasha’s coffee, and Darcy sets to combing her fingers through Natasha’s hair.

After a second, Natasha’s legs shift closer, so they’re pressed against Steve’s. Steve steels himself and picks up her feet, placing them in his lap. When she doesn’t stiffen, he lets his hands make slow, soft circles in the muscles of her lower legs.

Eventually they hear the sounds of the helicopter, and watch as two new coffee pots are delivered.

“Could I borrow this coffee pot tomorrow?” Wanda asks. “Clint and I had plans to go sailing this morning, but...”

“I thought he seemed a little over the top.” Natasha observes, and Steve is a little entranced by the sound of her voice when she’s so relaxed.

“I suppose.” Jane is hugging a bright yellow pillow. “If Steve can promise to get his heathen friend under control.”

“I’ll talk with him.” Steve promises.

“He’ll suffer.” Natasha presses her canvas tennis shoes against Steve’s stomach.

Steve lightly squeezes her ankles. He’s not sure how much he’ll be able to put into it, since it landed Steve here again, with Natasha. “I’ll talk to him.”

Natasha lips curve, like she heard everything he didn’t say.

Steve looks up in time to see Darcy wink at him. Very obviously.

“Well, sounds like things have calmed down in there. Time for breakfast.” Darcy declares, easing herself out from under Natasha’s head. “I want hash browns and I feel like Sam owes it to us.”

“And bacon. Are we out of bacon?” Jane hands Steve two pillows as she passes him, and pats his shoulder. Thor just smiles down at him and gives Steve a thumbs up.

“They are not subtle.” Natasha speaks once the patio door is shut behind Thor.

“I’m not sure they were trying to be.” Steve watches Thor give him another thumbs up through the glass door, until Jane pulls him away.

“No, probably not. Darcy was drawing hearts on my scalp for the last five minutes.”

Decision made, Steve twists and maneuvers so that he’s lying next to Natasha, her legs still draped over his. He brushes a knuckle over the back of her hand.

It’s getting warmer as the morning grows later. But there’s a nice breeze, and Steve can hear the waves, along with the sounds of the animals in the forest. The clicking bird is the loudest.

“Did you know Darcy thought that was a crab the night she slept on the beach?” Steve watches her smile, and wonders if he’s ever seen her so at ease. “You’re beautiful like this.”

Her eyes open now, and she turns her head to face him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Why?” He can see her watching everything about him. “Why not?”

Steve turns away, fights the urge to get up and pace. “You know you’re beautiful. It’s the first thing people notice about you, and a lot of times it’s the only thing people notice about you.”

She says nothing, so he keeps going. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“I noticed you were beautiful when Coulson introduced us, but I had no interest in you beyond the skills you brought to the team.” Steve touches her hand again, skating his index finger over the small white scar on the knuckle of her pinky finger. “But I couldn’t stop watching you after you brought Clint back. After you stood up to Tony with both strength and kindness. After you became my friend, and you were a good one.”

“So I would really like to know what happened three days ago. I didn’t like the look I saw on your face, and I really didn’t like what came after.” Steve lowers his voice. “If you would let me, I would help you, Natasha. The same way that you have helped me.”

“Steve.” She bites her lip, brows puckered slightly. Her eyes are intense and swirling with emotion. “Sometimes I think that I can – I can have these things – But other times, that day on the cliff, I’m reminded of what I am. What I have done.”

“The real reason, Natasha, that I can’t look away, is that you have a beautiful heart.” Her mouth opens in surprise, but her eyes skitter away and she makes a dismissive noise in her throat. “You do. I can see it.”

Her eyes return to his, searching. He’s reminded of the day she’d asked if he would trust her to save his life, in Sam’s apartment in DC. It had been a major turning point for them.

All of a sudden the speakers crackle to life.

_SHA-LA-LA-LA YOU’VE GOT THE MOOD PREPARED, GO ON AND KISS DE GIRL._

_WOAH WOAH, SHA-LA-LA-LA, DON’T ST-_

There’s the sound of a crash from inside, someone yelling, and something thumps against the glass. The extremely loud music cuts off.

“Are you fucking serious?” Steve drops his head back.

The door slides open and Darcy yells, “We got him, he’s done. It’s all good. Carry on! He’s very sorry.”

“No I’m not!” Comes a muffled voice. Steve is guessing Clint or Tony.

“You will be.” Bucky growls, and the door shuts again.

The only reason Steve manages to crawl out of his extreme cringe of mortification is that he realizes Natasha is shaking next to him. He literally might have been less alarmed when someone shot at him, than during that millisecond he thought Natasha was crying.

Instead she's laughing silently. A tear even leaks out of the corner of one eye, trailing down into her hairline.

By the time she stops, Steve is smiling down at her. “Okay?”

She shakes her head. “I just don’t know how I ended up here.”

“I can definitely understand that.” Steve grins. “I don’t know if you knew this, but I started out-“

She kisses him.

His brain shuts down in the best way possible.

They watch _The Little Mermaid_ that night, with ocean themed drinks. It mostly means lots of blue liquors and mixers. Tony doesn’t get any of those, or any popcorn.


	35. Chapter 35

Wanda thinks they’ve made it when she steps out onto the patio in the predawn darkness, clutching Darcy and Jane’s lab coffee pot to her chest.

But Clint holds up a hand, then presses a finger to his lips.

Steve and Natasha are curled together in a lounge chair. Steve’s nose is buried in Natasha’s hair, and Natasha’s face is pressed into his neck.

Wanda feels her lips curve as she takes them in. They are both sleeping soundly and she can sense such peacefulness from them. Something stirs, an awareness from one of them – she’d guess Natasha, because it settles when Clint murmurs something under his breath.

Clint catches her hand, gives her a gentle tug forward. It jars her from the almost drugging vibes of the sleeping couple. Wanda loves his hands. She likes their strength and warmth, how his calluses scrape softly.

They walk down the path to the beach, then down to the docks. Clint hops onto the boat first, setting down the small cooler he’d carried and then holding out his arms for the coffee pot. She transfers it carefully. It’s an old pot, covered in stickers, and not in the best of shape. But Jane had explained that it consistently makes delicious coffee and had survived two alien invasions.

“I’m going to put this stuff away, start a pot brewing. Why don’t you cast off?” He suggests, already backing away.

Wanda is only vaguely surprised. Clint has never been one to coddle, he is helpful, but he allows her to make her own decisions and her own mistakes.

He’d taught her all of this. And if worse comes to worse, if she catches a bad wind and it pushes them into the bay, she can always move to boat herself. They’d tested it.

“Are you hungry now, or do you want to wait?” He calls up from the cabin when she steps onto the boat. He hadn’t hooked the latch on the door so it bangs lightly as the boat rocks softly.

“After coffee.” She calls back, untying the closest rope by hand. She unwinds the other rope from the cleat with her mind, watching as the rope is engulfed in red and floats smoothly back to the boat.

She releases a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when the sails are filled with the wind and the boat is cutting smoothly through the water, across the bay. The sky is just beginning to brighten, and she can see the house behind them, dark and quietly.

When she turns back, Clint stands in the stairwell with two cups of coffee, watching her. Even in the humid morning, steam rises from both cups. Wanda thinks that it is perhaps one of the better sights she has seen in her life.

Wanda ducks under the boom, letting one hand trail over the wood. “I am buying a boat, I have decided.”

Clint’s eyebrows fly up even as he laughs.

“I’m being serious. I can rent a dock. Steve is always saying Pietro and I should leave the compound more often.” She looks around at Tony’s boat. “Maybe one that isn’t so fancy.”

“Yeah, it’s a little much. Big surprise.” Clint holds out a mug for her. “But the electricity without a generator is pretty nice.”

“A generator.” Wanda nods, and looks around the boat again, wondering what else would be different on a non-Stark watercraft. “I will have to do some research. And perhaps I will have bring someone with a little more experience with me.”

Wanda takes a sip of her coffee. “Do you think Tony would go?”

She can’t help but laugh when he chokes on his coffee.

“You seemed so nice and sweet when I met you.” He rasps, wiping at the front of his shirt.

“I was trying to kill you and your friends.”

“Yeah.” Clint sighs. “But after that? When you stopped... yeah, okay.”

“You have terrible taste in women.” The mainsail is flapping, and Wanda moves to adjust it and catch the wind fully. Her steps do falter a bit, but she’s better at this now, at finding her balance again and again. More, she enjoys the feeling that comes just after the sails catch and the boat is suddenly more powerful. It’s addicting.

Clint leans against the mast. “Aw, Wanda.”

She tilts her head, because suddenly she’s getting flashes of something from him. A car on fire? Some kind of demerit at work for marrying a co-worker without informing his SO?

He looks away, and swallows.

“Sorry.” Wanda turns her focus to the helm, giving him a second. She hadn’t meant to ... she’d just felt so relaxed that she’d forgotten and slipped.

“So I was thinking.” Clint stops next to her, his steps so quiet she hadn’t heard him approach, close enough that his arm brushes hers. “If you take me instead of Tony to buy your boat, you’re probably going to see a lot more of the inside of my head.”

Wanda doesn’t know what to say to that. The bottom of the boat slaps against the water after a wave, sending a spray of water misting over them. Wanda covers her coffee cup with one hand.

“I thought it might be nice not having so many secrets. Never done that before with someone I’m dating, might as well give it a try.”

“Might as well.” Wanda repeats, nonplussed.

His shoulder jerks in a shrug. “Just, I realized that meant you’d have more secrets.”

“I am very, very good at keeping secrets.” She taps the side of her head. “It comes with the job. You do not want to know the things I’ve seen.”

“I kind of think I do.”

“Well, you’re not going to.” Wanda thinks again, then shrugs. “At least, not important things. I’ll tell you the funny things, like when I walk past a woman on the street who is thinking only of how much she wants to murder her roommate for eating her leftover enchiladas.”

“How do you stand to be around Tony?”

Wanda shrugs, but actually Tony is very sweet. In his way.

“Cut that way.” Clint points, leaving it to her to adjust.

“Why?”

“So we can have breakfast. And for other reasons.”

He waggles his eyebrows and looks her directly in the eye. It’s obvious it’s intentional, so she doesn’t hesitate. It’s still murky, more impressions, even when he’s directing his thoughts at her. There is a hard wall in his mind, driven by a fear she doesn't blame him for. But she can definitely pick up the gist. “I like the way you think.”

There’s a sudden image of something green, with fins and a beaver tail.

It shocks a laugh out of her. “Did you just – send me a picture of a cartoon platypus?”

“You don’t know Perry? Agent P?” Clint shakes his head, but he’s doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. He's also moved even closer. Wanda likes it when he's close. “Well, I know what we’re doing when we get back.”


	36. Chapter 36

Pepper ends her call and leaves the quiet of the garage behind. She looks out over the bay and from this vantage point she can see the sail boat. It’s been anchored for a few hours now.

She hopes that means the date is going well. She also makes a note to have all of the fabrics dry-cleaned.

Stepping onto the patio, she finds Jane hunched over at the table, scribbling onto a flattened Cocoa Puffs box with an orange colored pencil.

Seeing the woman blow a strand of hair out of her face for the third time, Pepper offers a hair elastic from her purse.

It takes Jane a few minutes to notice, then her eyes narrow and raise. “Don’t tell Darcy. Thor and Tony are distracting her.”

“Just don’t be late for lunch. We’re watching _Sins_ and we’re not waiting.”

Jane takes the elastic and really, the only word for what she does is stuff. She stuffs her hair into it. “Yeah, I just have to get this down. I’ll just be a minute.”

Pepper recognizes that distracted tone. She looks around, but the patio is empty. With two quick tugs, she straightens Jane’s ... bun.

So she has a soft spot for scientists. And their inventions. Why else would she be the CEO of the company behind every groundbreaking innovation of the last half century?

“Thanks Pep.” Jane mutters just as Pepper reaches the door.

Pepper feels a rush of warmth and affection. Then she looks through the glass door and sees Tony sticking halfway out of the ceiling with the boots from his suit on.

Darcy is standing on three of the dining room table chairs, balanced precariously but steadied by Thor and Pietro, trying to reach him.

“What?” Steve says, stopping next to Pepper. Natasha just crosses her arms.

“I knew she’d be perfect keeping him in line.” Pepper says as she listens to Tony and Darcy bicker over him not using the boots while she’s under him, him saying he’s _not going to_ , and her saying that _she’s just saying_.

“This is in line?” Steve is already reaching for the door handle.

“He’s only wearing the boots.” Natasha catches his hand, stopping him, and Pepper nods in agreement.

Darcy gives a little jump and manages to catch one of Tony’s boots. He comes sliding out of the hole, the chairs tumble, Thor opens his arms wide, and then Tony is dangling from Sam’s arm, and Sam’s legs are being held by Bruce. A metal arm is wrapped around Bruce’s waist. They all sway, and then Thor gets a grip on Darcy’s legs and they stop.

“Teamwork!” Darcy yells victoriously.

They’ve managed to get Darcy and Tony back on the floor, and Sam and Bruce pulled back up into what Pepper is pretty sure is Bucky’s room by the time Steve opens the door.

The only thing better than their faces when they turn is that Natasha was smart enough to take a picture.

“In addition to there being a hole in the ceiling,” Pepper says, because she likes watching Tony squirm, “I’ve just received a call from the chair of the Commerce department here, who had some complaints about the race.”

“What?” Tony scoffs, “What could the ‘Chair of Commerce’ have to complain about?”

“His friend from the Historical Society was with him. It turns out the island has fallen on hard economic times, especially when it comes to tourism.” Pepper folds her arms, deciding to ignore Bucky picking bits of plaster off of Darcy. “They’re willing to forgive any possible damage to the warship if we will agree to donate the time of two Avengers next year, for a more organized event.”

Thor holds up a hand. “Am I misunderstanding, or does the chair want some of us to repeat the race next year, to more fanfare?”

Pepper nods, and Thor beams. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Darcy flings her arms up in the air, then holds out a hand for Thor for a five. “Awesome use of a pop culture reference.”

“What? No, no, no, I volunteer as tribute.” Sam jogs down the stairs. “You weren’t even there, you were talking with your fish buddy.”

“Get out of here, it’s my boat.” Tony objects. “And my house!”

“I don’t know what we’re fighting over, but I want it.” Clint squeezes past Pepper with a blue cooler.

“Yes, you do.” Wanda follows him, cradling a coffee pot Pepper has never seen before. The other woman’s hair makes a wet trail down the back of her dress, and Pepper can see the magenta ties of a swimming suit at the top.

“I can mostly explain.” Tony’s hand lands on her hip, lightly turning Pepper towards him. Plaster and dust cover most of the top half of his body, and there’s a tear in his shirt.

“You were helping a friend.” Pepper takes a Kleenex from her purse to dab at the small bleeding cut on his forehead.

“That is definitely how it started.” Tony agrees.

Pepper glances at the others. Steve and Natasha have now moved into the living room to study the hole. In the kitchen, Clint goes the long way around the island to squeeze past Wanda as they clean up from their picnic.

No one is paying attention to Tony and Pepper.

“How did it finish?” She asks, letting her fingers trail down the side of his face. Like always, the gesture makes his eyes flutter shut, and his head tip into her touch, like he’s been starved of it.

His eyes open again, sparking. “I’ll show you a finish-“

“Tony.” The cut on his head is bleeding again, and she refocuses on holding the tissue more firmly against it. “Did you talk with any of them about coming back to the tower?”

Tony’s eyes skitter away. “It didn’t come up. Besides, I thought you said Steve would be best to talk with first, and he was playing hide the star spangled salami with our dear Ms. Rushman.”

“Tony.”

“Fine, they were probably taking a brisk morning walk and bird watching.” Tony’s eyes flick to the kitchen, then back out towards the bay and his lips twitch.

“Tony.”

“What? We’ve got four days. Plenty of time.” He rocks back on his heels. He catches sight of himself, and becomes distracted looking at his arms. Bits of plaster rain down as he holds them out. “Besides, I was thinking they’re flying home on the jet. I could have their stuff moved to the tower, it would be a surprise. Who doesn’t like surprises?”

“Tony, no.” Pepper waits until he looks her in the eye. “No.”

“Fine.” Tony sighs. “Moving on, I don’t know if you’ve noticed how dirty I am. So, so dirty, Pep. Wanna come help me clean up?”

Pepper raises a brow. “I’ve seen you worse. Much worse.”

He beams, and leans forward. She can smell his cologne, and he lets his lips barely brush against the shell of her ear. Goosebumps trail down her spine. “Mmm, but you haven’t seen what I’m thinking.”

“I think I could guess.”

“That mean you’re coming?” He waggles his brows suggestively, “And I-“

“Meant that in more ways than one.” Pepper finishes. She straightens a little, and raises her voice. “There might be some things I have to take care of.”

“That sounds really important.” Tony’s hand comes to rest at the small of her back, guiding her towards the stairs. “Priority one, really.”


	37. Chapter 37

Bruce hadn’t expected a lot from this vacation idea of Steve’s. What he had expected had involved a lot of yelling, more property damage, and a trip cut short.

He’d expected a few weeks of Tony on long lab binges, ignoring that he’s not angry, he’s hurt and missing his friends. It makes for good science, but good science with a lot of explosions. And a higher chance of accidental really, really bad science.

An increased need for meditation and decaf tea had also been one of his predictions.

He hadn’t expected morning coffees with Pepper and sometimes Pietro. Or late night movies with Sam and Tony.

He really hadn’t expected to be teaching everyone how to make French toast for dinner on their third to last night.

Certain people are taking it more seriously than others. Bruce stares at Tony, who is carefully cutting the bread into even slices. To Bruce’s eye, it looks like three millimeters.

Tony looks up, meeting Bruce’s look, then his eyes dart towards Darcy. It’s so fast that Bruce doubts anyone else even noticed it. Bruce looks over at Darcy, who has dedicated herself equally to helping by bringing ingredients, and distracting by being present. Coming up blank as to what Tony is getting at, he looks back to Tony.

Tony rolls his eyes, then raises his eyebrows, his look intensifying meaningfully. Ah. The money shot. No wonder Tony had been all over this.

And Thor. And Bucky.

Bruce checks on everyone else, to see if he can move on. Natasha’s bread is already neatly sliced and set aside. Steve is almost done, but he’d been distracted by watching Wanda attempt to slice her bread with only her mind. Bucky is still slicing his bread, but he’s trapped Darcy in between his arms and is talking steadily in her ear.

Clint’s pile is haphazard and extremely unevenly sliced. Jane is...

“What?” Jane looks up at him, frowning. “Who wouldn’t like French toast stars?”

“That’s a lot of waste.” Clint comments.

“Fear not, my French toast is lacking and shall benefit greatly from the addition of French toast triangles.” Thor adds the bits Jane had cut away to his pile, and smiles at Bruce expectantly, ready for the next step.

Pietro has been done for ten minutes and is working his way through the _Do It Like an Avenger_ quiz book.

“Lewis.” Tony calls. “Lewis. Lewis. Lewis. Lewis.”

Pepper is nibbling on a piece of her bread, hardly paying attention. She shrugs when Bruce questions her. “Only so many of us need to know this skill. I’ll learn to make...”

“Baklava!” Pietro suggests, not looking up from his book.

“Swedish meatballs.” Jane sets her knife aside with a satisfied huff.

“Barnes, get away from Lewis. You’re a menace!” Tony calls. “Lewis, c’mon. Are we doing Sa Calobra or not?”

“We could sail the boat there to meet you.” Wanda offers.

“Do I get to drive?” Darcy pulls away from Bucky.

“Absolutely not.” Tony points with his knife for emphasis, and Clint nudges it further away from Tony’s face without looking. Tony scowls at him, but Bruce had seen Tony burn himself on the forehead with his own soldering iron. There’s still a little scar in his eyebrow. Also, all of the knives had mysteriously been sharpened the first few days of the trip.

“Then I’m not going. I’ll stay here with Bucky and we’ll supervise the work crew.”

Bucky grins at her and leans to the side, so he can whisper something to her, but Tony grabs onto her wrist and pulls her away.

“Fine! Fine, you can drive on the straight part. That’s like a hundred feet.”

“I think I should like to experience this road of honor.” Thor reaches over to tuck some of Bucky’s hair behind his ear for him. “Might there be room for me in the back seat?”

“Ha. These cars don’t have back seats, Point Break.” Tony pops a few chocolate chips in his mouth. Bruce notices that more than half his pile is gone, and Darcy is munching too.

“I can drive.” Natasha offers. “If there’s another car available.”

Tony shrugs that off, like always. “Anyone else? No? Just Lewis, Wilson and Very Very Frightening?”

Darcy smoothly offers him a low five. It’s only encouraging him. Bruce knows that might be a bad thing, but it’s really good to see Tony so ... not settled? Tony settled would be a bad thing. Happy? Enveloped? Accepted and assured of that?

Bruce looks down at a sharp jab in his stomach.

“Jane, no poking. Your fingers are too bony.” Darcy chides.

“Sorry.” Jane apologizes, withdrawing her hand. “What next? I’m hungry and I want to eat stars.”

“There’s an innuendo there, I just can’t...” Tony trails off, frowning at Jane.

“Yeah there is.” Darcy finishes off her Bloody Mary and stacks her glass in Thor’s empty glass, picking both up. She’s wearing Bucky’s ‘my memory is terrible’ shirt. It has a picture of an old desk top computer with a sad face on it, and Tony had given it to Bucky because he thought it would be funny. Steve hadn’t appreciated the humor, but Bucky wears it.

“It’s reaching at best.” Natasha tells them dismissively.

“Harsh.” Darcy comes around the island and shakes the empty glasses at Bruce. “Want one?”

“One.” Bruce agrees.

“So, at this pace we’re going to eat breakfast for dinner for breakfast tomorrow around noon.” Clint snatches Wanda’s floating knife out of midair, then lets it drop. She brings it back up.

“Tomorrow?” Thor frowns down at his plate.

“He’s exaggerating.” Pepper assures.

“Next, crack your eggs into the provided bowl. Your provided bowl- Tony, that one is- just switch with him Sam.” Bruce looks down as a Bloody Mary slides into place in front of him, in a frosted mug. “Don’t smash, Thor-“

He cuts off at all the groans, but also because a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. Darcy squeezes him in a hug, then wanders away to change the music.

He’s surprised enough that it takes him a few minutes to realize she made off with his bowl of chocolate chips. Plus they’d all been watching Clint break open eggs by tossing them up and letting them fall on his knife, so the eggs dropped into his bowl and shells fell on either side.

And then everyone else had to try. Only Natasha managed to not smash or drop her egg, but her shells did end up in bowl. Two of Sam’s eggs end up dripping from the ceiling.

Tony cocks his head to the side at Bruce and Bruce nods, acknowledging that Tony had been right. Yeah, buying all the extra ingredients had been a good call.

Bruce hardly as time to process everything. How close people stand, how loud things get, especially when Thor, Sam and Clint sing along with whatever Darcy turned on, or how much he _likes_ that he’s not processing those things.

Once they start cooking he’s weaving between the clumps of people at the two cook tops. Thor burns his almost immediately and is dejected, but at least he doesn’t catch his on fire like Pietro.

Surprisingly it’s Jane’s that turn out perfectly.

Tony’s head swings up when Bruce finishes checking hers over and Bruce rolls his eyes. “Don’t say it.”

“I guess you could say,” Tony starts,

“Please don’t.” Bruce takes the plate Tony had made for him.

“She’s your star pupil.”

Bruce is hiding his smile by turning his face away, because Tony doesn’t need the encouragement, so he catches Pepper hiding one of her own by dabbing at her lips with her napkin.

“Thank you, Bruce.” Steve claps a hand on Bruce’s shoulder as he passes, carrying his plate into the living room.

“Yes, thank you. Now I can make something for Thor and Darcy.” Jane presses a kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a sticky syrup imprint.

“Lick.” Darcy holds a napkin in front of his face. When he doesn’t she raises a brow and holds it in front of Tony instead, then uses it clean up the residue on Bruce’s cheek. “Don’t start without me! Jane! Don’t let them start without me.”

She smiles down at Bruce and pats his cheek, then frowns. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is it the spit? Dude, I saw you two in the lab. I am not convinced one of you wouldn’t shake for the other, if your hands were full and nature called.”

Pepper chokes on her food and Tony thumps her on the back as Darcy dashes towards the living room.

“How much did you offer them?” Tony asks, looking over his shoulder as the theme music to some cartoon starts up. “We should offer more.”

“It’s fine, Tony.” Pepper takes several drinks of her orange juice and clears her throat. “Jane is considering the offer.”

“What is there to consider? Throw in a car. Or that extendable platform Bruce and I were telling you about, for a secondary telescope. Definitely that.” Tony nods takes another bite of his French toast, as if it’s settled.

“We’re not offering that. That kind of project would be at least years out – “ Tony makes a scoffing sound, despite his full mouth, “ – and I don’t know how we’d get it past the zoning commission.”

Tony smacks Bruce in the arm. Then makes a noise of frustration, muffled by what had to have been a huge bite, and does it again. Pepper turns to Bruce expectantly.

One more smack.

Bruce sighs. “He wants me to tell you to buy the zoning commission a car.”


	38. Chapter 38

Sam wonders when is too soon to start leaning on Natasha as one of her boyfriend’s best friends. It’s just, Steve is too damned ethical to play dirty.

And Sam is going to win. Maybe he lost (and it is losing if you don’t win, Steve) Pictionary, Old Maid, Candyland, and Twister. But it will be even better to win this game they’d created, because their rules take into account super powered individuals, spies, geniuses, and aliens.

This is his fucking moment.  


Thor and Tony had gone out the first round. Darcy had set the challenge. Building sandcastles, worst two get tossed out of the game. Sam’s castle had been five feet tall and had a motherfucking draw bridge and a moat. And also a badass little seashell tower.

Clint’s round had been a _Top Chef_ style competition, using some of the weirder ingredients he and Wanda had picked up on Mara Luna in the market. Sam made a summer pasta dish with a light lemony sauce, topped with pine nuts. Jane’s half caramelized goop and Pietro’s unidentifiable hash had gotten them booted.

Natasha had picked freeze tag. Each person had been ‘it’ once, and their sessions had been timed. It had taken a full nine hours, but by the end Steve and Wanda saw their dreams of glory crushed.

Darcy and Bruce come in last during Pepper’s round, a sea kayak obstacle course race. Darcy had tipped over during Thor’s water cyclones, and Bruce hadn’t been able to touch both his toes before Pietro yanked him out.

And it’s only Natasha, Bucky, Pepper and Clint left. Doable. So doable.

Okay, not as doable as maybe he’d like, but he’s still going to win. He fucking refuses to lose.

Not this time.

Sam had completed desert survival training. He figures he can at least knock Pepper out for sure with his challenge. When he’d written it and dropped it in the hat, he hadn’t realized he’d be left with Bucky, Nat, and Clint. Those three are pretty much cockroaches, they’ll survive anything.

Jane grimaces down at the small piece of paper. “Yuck. To stay in after this round, contestants must eat a bug that is larger than one inch long. Legs don’t count.”

“Well, that’s me done.” Bucky stands, brushing the sand from his pants.

“Who’s getting the bugs?” Pepper asks, not looking the least bit fazed.

“There’s no way you haven’t eaten bugs before.” Clint watches Bucky walk around their tribunal fire (Tony had insisted, and Sam has to admit, it really adds to the mood).

“I’m not sayin’ I haven’t,” Bucky winks at Darcy, “but I’m not sayin’ I have.”

“If he has it was for survival, which is important for people who kiss him but also can’t stand the thought of those little sticky insect legs,” Darcy shudders, “but probably he hasn’t.”

“Probably?” Clint laughs, “Darce-“

Clint gets a mouthful of sand care of Bucky’s boot, and knocked off his contestant throne (dining room table chairs decorated with palm fronds and some giant ass pine cone things Pietro found up the mountain) care of Steve.

“The lady says probably he hasn’t.” Steve says firmly.

Darcy doesn’t look and has her ears plugged while they eat the bugs.

Round six almost gives Sam a heart attack. The challenge had been Pietro’s choice, and the task is to not be the last to retrieve your assigned flag. Pietro hides the four flags, and the others creep into the forest to set traps and slow the contestants down.

Sam is looking for a yellow flag, and damn if he doesn’t find a blue flag tied in the top of a tree and a purple flag pinned to the mouth of a cave first. He also meets a paintball gun equipped Tony and has to cut himself out of a fucking net trap set by Jane and Darcy, who only stare up at him dangling from a tree limb and laugh.

By the time he drags his yellow flag to the tribunal fire, he’s lost track of the other contestants and he has no idea if he’s still in the game. (He’s never gonna make fun of the last team on _The Amazing Race_ for coming up over the hill like they’ve got a chance to win again.)

But it’s Natasha and Pepper that get eliminated. Pepper has part of a net trap stuck around her wrist, and she’s covered in what might be honey. Natasha has all kinds of leaves and twigs in her hair, and her shirt is ripped. Steve looks pretty damned proud of himself, and Sam thinks maybe he knows how to play dirty after all.

Everyone else is talking about the round, about what happened, blah blah blah. Sam is looking at the red cowboy hat, thinking of who has challenges still in there.

Fuck. Tony. _Fuck_. Jane. Hell, Thor. What would Thor think is a ‘rousing challenge’ since he just told that story about hunting down some kind of ice beast and his buddy losing two fingers to cold for a birthday party? Wanda, Bruce, Steve, and Bucky all have challenges left.

Sam has no idea which he should hope for.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

“What?” Sam jumps, then looks from Clint standing right beside him to everyone else. They’re all clumped together, talking quietly.

“This is silly. It’s fine.” Darcy is saying as they all split apart.

“By unanimous decision, we’ve decided you’re doing Jane’s challenge for the final round.” Steve declares.

Darcy groans and Bucky hooks an arm around her shoulders.

“So here’s the deal,” Jane says, striding forward, “Darcy lost her favorite cactus earrings. They’re not here at the house. They could be in Little Bay, either in the hotel room or taken by those assholes. They could be in Mara Luna. The person to bring me Darcy’s earrings wins.”

“Are you serious?” Clint asks.

“Bring it, Hawkguy.” Sam is already making a plan. “We got a picture of these earrings?”

“Slow down. You do realize this means you don’t get to ride the road to Sa Calobra?” Tony interjects.

“Pffft.” Sam darts a sneaky look towards Darcy. If he can get her on her own, try to talk her through when she last remembers having the earrings, and then lock her someplace Clint can’t find he’ll have the advantage. “I’ll do it next year when I come back for the race.”

“You come back for the race?” Tony sputters. “I thought we decided-“

“And there are rules.” Steve interrupts. He’s watching Sam with narrowed eyes, and after a second, steps slightly to the left, so he’s blocking Sam’s view of Darcy. “Rules of conduct, and checkpoints.”

“The challenge will start tomorrow so we have time to arrange for your transportation.” Natasha nods a head towards Jane. “And so Jane has time to write out the rules.”

“Rules?” Clint winces as Thor pulls a long cactus spine from his arm. At least ten more wait for extraction. Sam is almost positive there aren’t any cacti on the island, and he doesn’t even want to know where someone got them. He’s starting to feel pretty lucky for only having to deal with Tony’s paint balls and the net. Even if the net had been a pain in the ass, and slightly demoralizing.

“I fucking love game shows.” Jane says, and she’s one hundred percent serious. Like, science serious.

“She does. She watches them when she’s stuck.” Darcy says. She’s moved around Steve, but is tucked under Bucky’s metal arm. Sam doesn’t think that’s an accident. “She knows all the rules, even the crazy bonus rounds. I would feel safe in betting that Jane knows _The Price is Right_ better than Bob Barker.”

It’s fucking impossible to catch Darcy alone for the rest of the night. All of Sam’s gratitude to Steve for slowing Nat down? Fucking gone. Because Steve totally Darcy-blocks Sam every time he manages to distract Bucky. The one time he’d managed to sneak around both Steve and Bucky he’d startled Jane when he finally reached Darcy.

Jane has hella sharp elbows.

The next day, Sam finally manages it. And by manages it, he means he stumbles upon her alone in the kitchen like some kind of glorious unicorn.

“Shut up.” She whispers groggily, before he even has a chance to talk. That’s when he realizes she’s not texting someone with the phone she’s holding up, she’s recording someone.

That’s also when he realizes he can hear someone humming Mission Impossible.

It’s Clint. That fucking asshole has been here with Darcy alone this entire time? All of Sam’s hard work last night, all for nothing thanks to Tony’s stupid twenty-five head shower system. Sam knew he should have skipped the shower. Who can get out of that thing after five minutes? Who?!

Ah, hell. And now Clint has inside information.

No.

No.

Sam is not fucking losing again. Not today! He grabs the fuller carafe of coffee, and then he scoops up Darcy.

“Nooooooo. My coffee.” Darcy squirms in his grip, hands extended reaching for her mug.

“I got your coffee. You can have the whole carafe.”

“What about creamer?”

Sam turns around, carrying her to the fridge so she can grab one of the ten bottles they’ve amassed over the past week and a half. Then he hauls ass up the stairs before someone catches him with her, or she wakes up enough to start demanding breakfast.

Within minutes he has her wrapped in blankets and pillows, holding a box of watermelon pop-tarts he’d found in the planter downstairs, and happily drinking out of the carafe.

“You good? You need anything? I’ve got a nice sweater. Cashmere.”

“I’ll take it.”

She ties it around her shoulders, over the blankets.

“That looks good.” Sam tells her. “Green is your color.”

“Thanks.”

“You tell me if you need anything else, okay? But in between that, tell me everything you told Clint.” He nods at her, to help her make the right decision here. She turns the pop-tart box over in one hand, trying to open it. He has that sucker opened and is offering her two pastries in seconds.

She takes the pop-tarts and shrugs. “Okay.”

He even gets her to share the pictures from her phone with him before Steve and Bucky discover them.

“What? Don’t look at me like that.” Sam motions to Darcy on his bed, swaddled and happy with a pop-tart in one hand and a half-full coffee carafe in the other. “This is probably the best morning she’s had all week.”

“I know for a fact that isn’t true.” Bucky drawls.

“Truth.” Darcy holds out a fist for him to bump. Bucky bumps his metal hand against it, then picks her up and pivots, heading back out of Sam’s room.

Steve shakes his head at Sam before following them.

It’s only after they’re gone that he realizes they took his blankets and his sweater.

It doesn’t even matter though. He got more intel than Clint. Fucker is goin’ down, and Sam’s going to be the one getting the crown and the throne chair at the tribunal tomorrow.

Fuck yes he is. Fucking ironing board. Bullshit.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point onward, posts have not been looked over by my beta reader. I've done my best, but my brain subscribes to the read what I meant to write and not what I did write school of proofreading. So here be skipped words, misspellings, and poor grammar. Let me know in the comments, and I'll fix it. Thanks!

Natasha is splitting her attention between the kitchen and the living room while she eats the kiwi Steve had set in front of her, cut into quarters. In the kitchen, Steve is making more breakfast. Clint had only made enough for two, and had abandoned preparations when Sam stole Darcy.

Natasha is recording Steve in the kitchen on her phone for Darcy, who wants to make a montage video of everyone humming while they make toast. Clint had even caught Natasha at it a few days ago. Most of the others don’t seem to notice they’re doing it. Nat had done it because it makes her smile.

In the living room, Pepper is helping Jane set up her presentation on the rules of the last round of Avenger’s Challenge. It involves several sheets of paper from Darcy’s giant pad from Pictionary night. And also maps, highlighters, and Pepper’s personal assistant coordinating things from New York.

“Leave them alone, Clint.” Steve warns again, and Clint slumps back into his seat.

Darcy is perched on Bucky’s lap, a mostly unidentifiable lump hidden by layers of blankets and inexplicably topped off by a very nice sweater. She’s also drawing on two eggs. If the eggs are involved in the game, Natasha is going be very pleased.

A plate scrapes the counter, and she looks down to see Steve placing an omelet and two pieces of toast in front of her. The omelet is over large and flecked with basil.

She lifts a piece of toast to free a basil leaf that was stuck between the slices, figuring it had gotten trapped there during preparation. She stares for a millisecond, maybe less. Then she drops the toast back into place, hiding the hearts he’d made out of strawberry jam and nutella.

And Steve _winks_ at her. _Steve_ winks at her. And he flat out grins when Natasha feels a slight heat to her cheeks. Not much, but apparently noticeable to super soldier eyes. She's beginning to get the impression she only knew half of what she was getting into, starting something with Steve. It seems that maybe he is as private as she is, and there is yet another side to him to discover. It's kind of thrilling. 

It had been decades since she’d blushed in any way other than purposefully. She automatically tips her head forward, letting her hair fall to shield her face. And the small smile she can feel curving her lips that she finds she doesn’t want to smother.

“I feel like I want to know.” Clint mutters, bracing one arm on the back of her chair as he leans close, still not looking away from Pepper and Jane in the living room. “But I woke up last night to Sam trying to sleep condition me into losing. He’s going down.”

“Buh nah nah, nah nah nah!” Tony jams the bread into the toaster and Nat brings up her phone on reflex, “ _Nah nah_!”

Steve squeezes behind Tony with a plate of bacon, pausing briefly so Tony can grab a few pieces. Then Tony notices Natasha recording and gives the camera lens a coy look. Natasha lowers her phone before it can get worse.

Once everyone has a plate, they move into the living room. Three large pieces of paper are taped to the wall, and the pad has another on it. There are two identical black back packs on the coffee table.

Jane has a plastic pointer that is actually a long pink wand with a star and purple streamers on the end. (Natasha plans to at some point be present when Darcy packs for a trip, she really wants to know how the other woman decides what is necessary to bring.)

Steve sits next to Natasha on the couch, and Natasha moves her leg so her knee presses against his thigh. After a few minutes, his right hand drops down so his fingers swirl over her skin. He continues eating with his left hand, paying attention to Jane.

“The Championship Round of the Avenger’s Challenge-“

“Championship round.” Sam murmurs.

“-is simple,” Jane taps her pointer against the first piece of paper, “one, contestants have twelve hours, starting at nine am, and ending at nine pm, to find and return Darcy’s cactus earrings.”

Pepper holds up a tablet with a zoomed in picture of the jewelry in question. Two green ceramic cacti hang from delicate gold hooks.

“Two, contestants must check in at three different points and send a selfie, coordinates are in your bags. Three, contestants must provide proof of life, one selfie per hour, for Harold or Harvey, who must be presented unharmed at the end of the round with the earrings in order to win.”

“Who is Harold and Harvey?” Pietro looks around the room. “Do we know them? Did we get new pineapples?”

“ _Fredddddiiieeeee._ ” Natasha takes part in the refrain, mainly because it upsets Sam so much. But seeing Steve laughing silently down at his breakfast? She’ll take that too.

“Get out of here with that!” Sam yells, perched on the edge of his seat, his breakfast forgotten. “You’re being rude to Jane. Jane, I’m listening to you.”

“Harold and Harvey!” Darcy stands in the seat of her armchair, between Bucky’s legs, holding two eggs over her head, one in each hand. Each has a face drawn on it in black marker. “They’re identical twins, the only way they can be told apart is by Harvey’s glorious mustache.”

“And are Harvey and Harold hard boiled?” Wanda asks, trying to hide her snickers in Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course not. They’re afraid of water. They can’t swim on account of not having any arms.” Darcy grins.

“Exactly. So contestants must keep Harold or Harvey with them at all times, and in perfect health. Easy enough, right?” Jane’s smile is a little diabolical as she moves on to the next piece of paper. “Contestants are provided with a backpack containing a GPS enabled phone for their hourly proof of life check ins, two thousand dollars in various local tenders, keys, a metal detector, and the list of coordinates.”

One more sidestep and Jane is next to the last hanging piece of paper. “Each contestant is provided with a helicopter, a speed boat at each island, and keys for multiple cars hidden at each location.”

“And lastly,” Jane moves to tap her pointer against the large pad of paper, “contestants each have two phone a friends. A friend of their choice can be dispatched to their location by helicopter, hammer, or suit to provide assistance with one task. The competition ends, and all check-in requirements end, once someone has located the earrings. They must show photographic proof when they find them, and then reach Darcy to give her the earrings. The earrings may be stolen at any point until they are in her hands.”

“Please take a back pack.” Darcy stands and hands an egg to Clint, and then the other to Sam.

“Is this Harvey or Harold?” Clint turns the egg over in his hand, then tosses it and catches it.

“Were you not paying attention at all?” Sam demands, cradling his egg in one hand, “My egg has a sweet mustache, meaning he’s Harvey. Harv and I are going to kick your ass.”

“You have fifteen minutes to gather your supplies and get to your helicopters. They will not take off until after nine o’ clock.” Jane stands with her pointer resting in both hands, looking pleased.

“Jane, you did a great job with this. I mean, really well thought out.” Sam smiles at her. “And did you do something different with your hair? The volume is really nice. Plus, I’ve been meaning to compliment the tattoo behind your ear. Is that Aquila?”

Jane’s hand flutters up towards her right ear. Natasha frowns, because she’d never noticed Jane had a tattoo.

Then Jane leans forward and whispers something to Sam, he leans down readily. Natasha can just see a series of dots, which she’d taken for freckles, behind Jane’s ear.

“Not fair! Guys, is that fair? Inside information!” Clint yells, pointing at the pair.

Jane straightens. “I’m the commissioner of games, and I say it’s fair.”

“Commissioner of... What? That’s not a thing. ” Clint looks around the room and quickly realizes no one is going to contradict her. “Well, I mean, I think you look nice too. The whole not-brushed thing is a good-“

Jane walks out of the living room.

“That was sad, man.” Sam is already digging through his back pack.

“Yeah, whatever, Mr. _you want to lose, you’re going to lose, deep down, you want to lose_.” Clint grabs his back pack and stalks towards the stairs.

Wanda slips past Steve and Natasha to perch on the edge of Bucky’s chair. She edges closer, finding her balance, and braces one hand on his shoulder.

Natasha watches the way Bucky’s surprise fades into amused attentiveness as Wanda drops her head onto his shoulder and looks up hopefully at him. Maybe part of the reason Bucky had been so stiff and hard to draw out was that he wasn’t used to the distance the Soldier demanded from people? It would certainly fit with Steve’s stories of his friend Bucky from before the war.

“Bucky.” Wanda clings to his arm. “Would you please, please, please go on the boat with us instead of staying here to watch the construction crew? I can’t sail without another experienced person on board yet. Please? It’s probably my last chance before we leave tomorrow.”

“I will stay with Steve here.” Pietro offers.

Bucky looks towards Steve, who shrugs. “Guess I’m sailin’.”

“Yes!” Wanda hugs him and pushes away. “I’ll get the boat ready.”

“You act like I don’t have a boat in New York!” Tony yells after her, ducking her plate when it shoots upwards surrounded by red light and floats into the kitchen to land slightly unevenly in the sink. “We’ve got a free seat in Pepper’s car, who’s game?”

“I’ll go.” Jane shrugs, directing a somewhat hesitant friendly smile at Pepper.

Natasha is glad to see Jane getting over whatever it was that was holding Jane and Darcy back from befriending Pepper. And slightly amused that rules and office supplies is what had accomplished it.

“Just so we’re clear, we talking a hundred and eighty miles an hour at some points. Hairpin curves.” Tony warns.

“It should be a more gentle, shorter imitation of the Bifrost, I should think.” Thor tosses an arm over Tony’s shoulders, jostling the smaller man.

Tony pauses and tilts his head. “Fair enough.”


	40. Chapter 40

Pietro smiles at the repairman who eyes him warily. Steve had been very brisk with them after they showed up with a worker not on their contracted team. The worker was the nephew of the contractor, and he checked out.

But it had started them out on the wrong foot with Steve, and Steve didn’t seem eager to correct it. Pietro doesn’t mind. What did Darcy call it? Good cop, bad cop?

Pietro is friendly to them as he darts around, keeping an eye on all of them. Making sure they go only where they are supposed to. Identifying any tools or electronics they use. Steve watches from the living room, arms crossed, face stern.

Apparently a trusted member of Tony and Pepper’s security usually oversees repairs to this house. That did not meet Natasha, Clint or Bucky’s security standards.

Steve even manages to look stern while eating the sandwich Pietro made for him.

He doesn’t keep a straight face when the video message from Tony comes through. It’s Darcy, Jane and Thor in their borrowed race suits. Thor’s is so tight that he can’t move or lower his arms all the way at his sides. Darcy and Jane’s are so over large that the women sit on a railing at either side of Thor, waving their arms and kicking their feet so the excess fabric flaps at the end of their limbs.

It is immediately followed by Clint and Sam’s next hourly check in. Clint’s hair is pushed straight back by the wind and he holds Harold between his thumb and index finger as he and what looks like several others use metal detectors on the beach.

Sam has fashioned a necklace that holds Harvey, and is standing in front of the Little Bay police department, where they’d questioned the paparazzo.

By the next update the living room smells of fresh paint, the work crew is gone, and Pietro is texting Darcy to ask if he can use her float.

Clint and Harold are in one of the cars. Harold is wearing a tiny driver’s cap. Sam and Harvey are in a helicopter.

Pietro is _bored_ by the time the next updates come. He’s put together and installed the slide Darcy had ordered for her float, he’s taken a _nap_ , and he’s run a few laps around the island.

Then he gets a text message from Sam. _Phone a friend. Get here fast._

It has coordinates and nothing else.

Forty-five minutes later, Sam is scowling at Pietro as he takes a picture of him to send to the group text.

“Man, will stop with that? Get me out of here, that’s the purpose of the phone a friend!” Sam presses his face against the bars of his cell, trying to see the desks in the corner of the room. “And will you check on Harvey? They put him really close to the edge.”

“Fine. And why couldn’t you pay your own bail?” Pietro snaps one last picture and puts the phone away.

“Because Clint replaced all my money with monopoly money! Now get me out, or I’m telling Jane you’re violating the spirit of the game! And move Harvey back from the edge! He’s lopsided and he rolls.”

“I got it, I got it.” Pietro tucks Harvey back into his little necklace carrier, then goes out to the talk to the Mara Luna Departament de Policia desk sergeant. Within ten minutes, Sam is walking back out of the department doors.

“Bullshit.” Sam mutters, then smiles as he looks over his shoulder and waves. “Look man, I need one more thing from you.”

“One task only.” Pietro reminds him.

“Yeah, but you were an ass during your task, besides, it’s tiny.” Sam grabs Pietro’s arm and tugs him towards the market.

Pietro is dragged into the market, and finally to a stand selling woven goods. The man behind the table notices Sam coming towards him with a mild look of alarm.

“Tell him I want a scarf for Harvey.” Sam pushes Pietro towards the man.

“You are kidding?” Pietro asks.

“Man, no. Where did Clint even find that stupid hat for Harold? Just do this for me, okay? A little scarf for Harvey. Sophisticated, though, okay? Tell him sophisticated.”

Pietro speaks in halting Catalan, requesting a scarf for Sam’s egg.

 _For the egg?_ The man asks, looking towards Harvey.

“Sophisticated. Cool.” Sam says.

 _For the egg. I’m sorry, my friend is crazy._ Pietro confirms.

The man keeps looking at them like he expects them to break into song, or flip the table or something. It takes him less than a minute to weave a scrap of a scarf together.

“Aw, yeah.” Sam snatches the scarf and sets to trying to tie it around Harvey. “Pay him. Also, do you have any more money that I can have?”

Pietro hands over the last of his money.

“Twenty-seven dollars?! How much did you pay him for the scarf?!”

Pietro raises an eyebrow, and Sam lifts his hands palms out in surrender.

“You’re right man, you’re right.”

Their phones both ding. Sam stares down at his phone for a long minute while Pietro tries not to laugh.

“Did Clint just use a phone a friend to hire the Winter Soldier to kill Harvey?”


	41. Chapter 41

“You’re really not worried?” Tony looks at Darcy smiling down at her phone, strapped into the seat next to him.

“Should I be?”

“I’ve been driving this road since I was fourteen. Pep and I try to make it out here at least once a year to race.”

“So, that’s a no.” Darcy struggles to zip her phone into her pocket, her extra long sleeves getting in the way. Then she looks at Tony and waggles her eyebrows. “Shall we?”

Pepper revs her engine behind them.

“So impatient.” Tony grins.

“Is this some kind of weird foreplay for you guys?” Darcy tries to look out the back window, but it’s too small. She drops back into her seat. “It is. It totally is.”

Tony hits the gas, and the tires squeal.

Darcy’s laugh is pure glee.

Tony finds he has a hard time not laughing with her giggling in the seat next to him, and she hardly stops giggling. That’s totally why Pepper is able to pass him on the sixteenth turn.

Natasha gives it a hell of a go, but Thor brings a lot of extra weight, and she’s not familiar with the road or the car.

Pep over steers where she always does, and Tony knows she’s cursing as he tries to capitalize on it.

“I think I might have a crush on Pepper now.” Darcy says as Pep manages to cut them off at the next turn, forcing Tony to let up.

“She’s taken.”

“Don’t worry, Wanda sent me a video of Bucky climbing up a rope onto a helicopter. I’ll watch that again and be cured.”

“Helicopter? He get tapped for phone a friend?”

“Clint took out a hit on Harvey.”

He doesn’t almost put them in the sand. More like almost almost. Which is completely different, Pep.

Darcy also giggles the entire time she gets to drive on the straight stretch at the bottom. At the end she turns to him with wide eyes. “You have to teach me how to do this.”

“You come to New York, I’ll buy you your own car. I’ve got a track upstate.”

“Just so we’re clear, that would be cool if it was only as, like, a vacation, right?”

Tony drops his head back and groans. “Lewis, fine. Yes. If you only come to New York on vacation, we’ll do all the things. But why wouldn’t you move to New York? Did Pepper tell you about the extendable platform? I already had them start construction.”

“It’s up to Jane. It’s her science.”

“What more does she want?” Tony demands. “Name it.”

“What did I say her money shot was?”

“Honesty and strategy. This is the strategy, get with the program.”

“Poh-tay-to, poh-tah-to.” Darcy gives him a meaningful look as Thor pulls her door open.

“What?” Tony yanks his safety harness of and climbs out of the car. “What is that?”

But Thor is spinning Darcy around in circles, and she’s not paying attention anymore.

“What is it?” Pepper’s smile is definitely a little gloating, like always when she beats him.

“Poh-tay-to, poh-t – Oh.” Tony looks back towards Jane. “ _Poh-tay-to, poh-tah-to_.”

“I assume this has some kind of meaning that you will soon reveal to me.”

“I may have made a small mistake with Jane. Tiny. Minuscule.” Tony rubs his hand over his face. “You gotta fix it.”

Pepper gives him a look that roughly translates to her saying his name in _that_ way, and also a terse _explain yourself before I leave you for a cabana boy that can follow instructions very, very well_.

So he does.

“Tony!” Pepper presses her fingertips to her temples. “You knew that was one of her issues. And she calls you on touching the machines you gave her, and says ‘I thought they were as good as mine’ and you say-“

She cuts off, rubbing faster circles.

“Poh-tay-to, poh-tah-to.” Tony finishes, and she scrunches her face up.

"And tomorrow is our last day here." Pepper's face scrunches up more, and her freckles run together. Tony has a special affection for her freckles and how they're _everywhere_. Her eyes open and he quickly finds someplace else to look before she figures out where his mind wandered.

“Okay.” Pepper lets out a deep breath. “Okay. I can fix this. While you guys go to lunch, I’ll go to the boat and work on adding another point to the contract. _Don’t_ say anything else, Tony. Let me handle it. You’ve said enough.”

“You got it, Pep. Not another word.”

Their phones all chime.

It’s a picture message from Sam. Harvey is sitting in the palm of his hand, wearing a jaunty little scarf, much more tasteful than Clint’s stupid hat, next to a pair of cactus earrings.

“Holy shit, he found them!” Darcy yells.

Jane’s phone rings and she steps to the side to answer it. After a few minutes, she waves Pepper over.

All is explained when Jane sends a group text.

_Sam has called on Darcy for his second phone a friend. We have decided to allow it, but in order to win Sam must deliver Harvey, the earrings, and Darcy to the house by nine pm. Clint still has the chance to steal the earrings before that point and complete the round himself._

“What does he want?” Tony asks as Pepper arranges for Darcy’s helicopter.

Darcy grins. “I’m supposed to distract Bucky.”


	42. Chapter 42

“You’re making a lot of assumptions here, Wilson. I’m not sure what I think about that.” Darcy stretches out to touch Harvey’s scarf, and Sam slaps her hand away.

“You’re assuming the house is a lot more soundproof than it is, and that you haven’t woken me up with your headboard.”

“You make a fair point. Complaint withdrawn.”

“Uh huh.” Sam leans forward to look out the window, scanning the busy street below. They’re on the mezzanine level of a restaurant who’s staff has been watching them uncertainly for the past forty minutes while Sam watches the yacht he’d arranged for to make sure it’s safe.

“I did put a pillow between the headboard and the wall after that first time.”

“And I thank you for it.” His arm comes back, reaching for her while he doesn’t look away from avidly watching the scene outside the window. His fingers drag over her face before lighting on her shoulder. “Always forget how short you are.”

“Rude.”

“Uh huh.” Sam says again. She literally has maybe five percent of his attention he’s so busy being paranoid about Bucky and Clint. “Besides, I didn’t assume anything. I got you this taser I found in a go-bag on Clint’s boat. Okay, I think we’re safe to go. Just keep your head down, and remember, your mission is to protect Harvey.”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember your rousing speech from earlier. If there’s a bomb, I should throw myself gently on top of Harvey, I get it.” Darcy rolls her eyes when Sam peeks out the door, then uses hand signals to tell her to do ... something. “Dude, the only hand signals I know are the ones for ‘where’s my pen’, ‘jack booted thugs’, and ‘pop-tart stat’.

Sam looks at her in pure disbelief, like she’s ruining his life on purpose. “You know what? Fine. Just follow me.”

“That was my plan.”

Darcy follows him through the restaurant, where he only bought them one appetizer to split, and out the back door. He completely ignores the kitchen staff trying to turn him around, and they give up once Darcy and Sam are out of the building.

“Was that Clint?”

Sam shoves her back against the wall, one arm holding her in place while he flattens himself next to her. He wraps his freehand around Harvey as he looks towards the mouth of the alley. “Where?!”

“In the giant sombrero.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “That is just the thing he’d think was a good disguise. Oh, shit. It’s him. How did he even get here? I blew up the engine on his boat and siphoned all the gas from his helicopter.”

“Dude.”

“He does still have his money though.” Sam’s tone is bitter as he watches the street ahead carefully.

“What happened to your money?” All she gets is a sour look.

“If you don’t talk, this going to be boring again.”

“Again? I bought you that plate of potato things.”

“Okay, one, you ate _more_ than half of it. Two, that was like, thirty minutes ago.” Darcy jogs behind him as he darts forward, one hand stretched backwards to hover near her hip.

“That was seventy-six percent of the money I had to my name. You should be more grateful.”

“Seriously, what happened to your money?”

Sam practically shoves her behind a giant bronze statue. With a sigh, he crams his hand into his bag and comes up with a handful of colored paper that he tosses at her.

Darcy gasps. Then she gasps again. “Is that Monopoly money? Did he take the money out of our game? He _separated_ the pieces of a game and took some of them to different location?”

“Time to go, he just went into the restaurant.” Sam grabs her shoulder and pulls.

“Nope. Are you a heathen? Were you actually raised in a barn? We can’t leave this here.” Darcy starts grabbing the money, green twenties and dark yellow five hundred dollars bills, with a few pink fives. “We’ll need these and forget they’re missing until midway through a game- Sam!”

“I’ll buy a whole other game. You can have that one. Come on!”

“Just pick up the money. I’m almost done. Sam! You’re crinkling it!” He zips his bag up again, and then wraps an arm around her waist and lifts her. And does not put her down. And starts jogging. “Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.”

“I loved those books.” Sam huffs as they cross from the streets to the sand.

“Sam Wilson! You read those books?”

“I have twelve cousins. They are all girls. I’m like a double agent now.”

“Jane and I were thinking of re-watching _Blossom_. You in?” Darcy offers as he takes them over a sand dune. He finally sets her on her feet.

“Hells yes.” Sam nods his head towards the dock. “That’s our boat. The big one.”

“The yacht? How did you get a yacht if you only have monopoly money?”

“Remember the Chair of Commerce?”

“You didn’t.”

“What? Now we just have to have four Avengers here instead of two, and it’s not like everyone isn’t fighting over who gets to come.” Sam takes her hand as they step onto the dock, and doesn’t let go until they’re on the boat.

The only other person on the yacht is the Captain, who only nods when Sam tells him not to stop for anything and to stay at the helm.

Sam sets her up on the lower deck. “I’m going upstairs. Bucky doesn’t get past you, okay? No matter what.”

Darcy hesitates. Maybe he’s taking this a little too seriously?

“Don’t you take this from me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop him.” She holds up her hands in surrender. He pushes Clint’s go-bag into them.

“Like you’re contractually obligated to do according to the rules of the game.”

“I didn’t sign anything-“

“Obli-fucking-gated.” He starts up the narrow stairs. “Not even a boot on these stairs.”

“Yep. Got it.”

And then ... nothing happens. The first half hour, Darcy stays on alert. The second half hour, she goes through Clint’s go-bag. Knives, guns, a collapsible bow, collapsible arrows, two different tasers, protein bars, Gatorade (the red kind, thanks Clint!), duct tape, nylon rope, smoke bombs, three different hats, and one fake beard.

“Sam? I’m bored.”

Nothing.

“I think this vacation went really well, don’t you?” Darcy flops back on the deck, warming herself in the sun. “Bonding was had. And not just the bow-chicka-wow-wow kind. Don’t think I didn’t see you playing Uno with Pietro the other day. I mean, why did you do that to yourself, but still, it was sweet.”

“Darce?” He finally answers, sounding kind of tense.

“Hmm?”

“I’m supposed to be hiding. Which means I can’t be talking to you, it kind of gives the whole game away. So I’m gonna – Shit, there’s a boat.” Sam clambers down the stairs with a pair of binoculars. “It’s Barnes. Darcy, you’re on.”

He turns to face her, mouth open probably to give her another pep talk, but he just stares.

Darcy spits out the protein bar (it’s gross anyway), and pulls off the beard. “Yeah, yeah. I got this. Go hide.”

Sam disappears and Darcy checks her teeth in the reflection on one of the windows. Then she adjusts her boobs, fluffs her hair, and reapplies her lipstick. She’s done in time to be leaning against the doorway to the fancy lounge room when Bucky hops over the railing.

“Hi there, soldier.”

Bucky grins. Damn has she grown attached to that grin. “What’s a gorgeous dame like you doing in a place like this?”

“I’m supposed to stop you from completing your mission, using any means necessary. But I gotta be honest, I totally underestimated what seeing you in this get-up would do to me.” Darcy motions at his black tactical suit. It’s tight across his chest and his hips. And those thighs? “For science, how did you, uh, get up the side of the boat?”

“I climbed.” He reaches back over the railing and his hand comes back up holding a big black suction cup with a handle on it. “With these.”

“And your arms.” Darcy looks him over. How is it possible that he seems even more handsome than he did at the beginning of this vacation?

“Yeah. Those too.” Bucky looks towards the stairs. “You know I gotta try, right?”

“Sam gave me Clint’s go-bag. With tasers.”

“You gonna tase me, sweetheart?”

“Nope. But you know what else was in there? Rope. I feel like we can have some fun with that, and if you’re tied up, well, what can you do? You gonna leave me here, all by myself, _sweetheart_?” Darcy bends to pick up the rope, then turns to walk into the lounge, pulling her shirt off and tossing it behind her.


	43. Chapter 43

“I was going to say this escalated quickly, but...” Tony trails off. 

“It de-escalated quickly?” Pietro suggests. 

“Just, make sure they don’t hurt Darcy?” Steve requests, nudging Pietro forward. 

Pepper is scanning the boat. There are no obvious signs of damage, but she’s got a guy ready to go with a replacement. Just in case.

When she goes back to watching the race down the beach with the others, Sam and Clint are wrestling in the sand again. Darcy stands next to them, arms crossed and chatting with Pietro.

Sam scrambles to his feet, but Clint tackles him again and sand explodes upwards. Elbows fly, and for a second Clint has the upper hand, shoving Sam's face into the sand. Pietro moves Darcy farther away. 

“Can we start eating, or do we have to wait?” Tony bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet next to her. 

“We have to wait.” Jane says firmly, and again, no one questions her. 

Two long tables have been dragged onto the beach, and a victory spread of lobster, shrimp, and giant turkey legs (Thor’s contribution) wait. The entire area is surrounded by an obscene amount of tiki torches, and the tribunal fire has not only been lit again, but has been modified to be even larger. 

It’s actually only a few minutes later that Sam collapses at Jane’s feet, Clint’s arms wrapped around his legs, and his arm extended, hand holding a blue hamster exercise ball.

He’s panting and grimacing, and sand sticks to the sweat on his face. 

Jane nods, and Thor picks up the hamster ball and pulls it open. A foil emergency blanket falls to the sand, and Pepper makes a note to have someone check the First Aid kit on the yacht before they send it back. 

And perched on top of what looks to be a mound of fake hair and a pile of gauze is a pair of cactus earrings and Harvey the egg.

“I hereby declare, by the power vested in me by me, Sam Wilson the winner of the Avenger’s Challenge!” Jane plucks up the earrings. 

“Where the hell is Barnes?” Clint demands between gasps. He rolls onto his back and glares up at Darcy. 

“And does it have anything to do with your shirt being on backwards, champ?”

“He’s kind of tied up.” Darcy motions back towards the boat and takes a few steps, walking backwards. “I should actually get back to that. Save us some food!”

“Hey, Darce!” Sam calls, still face down in the sand. “If you and Bucky happen to see a hamster, maybe grab it?”

Well, scouring a yacht for a missing hamster won’t be the strangest thing Tony’s staff has ever done. Pepper pulls out her phone and makes a list, adding dry cleaning last. 

They convince Sam he has to go rinse off in the ocean before they’ll crown him, then there’s a short ceremony officiated by Thor. Pepper and Jane each get awarded scepters for their parts in arranging the last round, as Coordinator of Games and Commissioner of Games. 

It’s all going very well, and during dinner Pepper is able to convince Jane to look at the new contract. She apologizes for any misunderstandings and promises that Tony has nothing to with the business side of Stark Industries. 

If Pepper had a nickel for every time she’s figured out that something Tony had said is the reason her negotiations aren’t going well – Well, actually she has a lot more than a nickel for every time that has happened. But still.

“Tony.” Steve says in that warning voice, the slightly brisk one, and that snaps Pepper out of her thoughts.

“What?” Tony demands, arms spread. “You guys tried living on your crappy little compound. I even bankrolled the whole thing! Put in a really nice pool, modded your living quarters, because let me tell you, those bathrooms do not come standard. And it sucked, just like I said it would, and now it’s time to come home.”

He kind of takes the wind out of Pepper’s righteously angry sails – what happened to not another word, Pep? – when he gets to the end. Because Pepper knows better than anyone else how difficult Tony can be, but she also knows better than anyone else what a kind and good heart he has.

“I updated all of your suites, and I even put in a ten mile corkscrew running track and obstacle course for the Minute Man here. Plus, multi-head showers for everyone.”

Ten mile corkscrew- “Tony.”

“If I’m flying to New York, you can bet I’m not staying out at some compound instead of in the city.” Darcy drops into the empty seat next to Pietro and drags one of the plates they’d set aside over. 

“I do miss the city.” Bucky smiles his thanks at Pepper when she passes him the other full plate. 

“I must confess that I too prefer the city.” Thor produces one of the double chocolate eclairs that had disappeared so quickly that Pepper had put in another order for more to be shipped to the tower. There had been a fight over the supposed last one. Thor drops it onto Darcy’s plate. “And it cannot be denied that I have enjoyed sharing these past weeks with all of those that I hold dear on Midgard in one place.”

“The compound feels like work.” Natasha says, and Pepper can see the decision being made in Steve’s face after that. Something Pepper hadn’t realized had been pulled taut and tight inside loosens. 

“It would be a hell of a lot easier getting down to DC to check on my mom.” Sam adds, somehow managing not to look ridiculous in the giant crown that had been made out of spare scrap metal, streamers, and the team action figures. Pepper doesn’t want to know how much Tony spent to get action figures made of Jane, Darcy and Pepper, and shipped to the island on such short notice. It’s just one of those things she’s better off not knowing, and just appreciating the thought behind it. There are also two carvings immortalizing Harold and Harvey. “Also, showers.”

“I vote tower.” Clint leans forward, bracing his elbows on the table to look down at Wanda. There is a sweetness in the look that Pepper never would have expected from Clint. Before this trip she'd seen his sarcasm and rashness and taken him for somewhat glib. Now she's seen the blunt honesty he approaches things with, she can't unsee it and she's found she has a soft spot for the archer. He's actually rather similar to Tony in the way he pursues his relationships - haphazardly and clumsily, but with the best of intentions. “Gotta help someone see about a boat.”

“Tower.” Wanda and Pietro say at once. Pepper smirks at Pietro. If he thought she had been joking about trying him on one of her acquisitions teams, he’s got a surprise coming. During their morning conversations over coffee, it had become increasingly clear to Pepper that in addition to a lot of extra time on his hands due to not needing much sleep, Pietro had a real eye for spotting trends, and was a hell of a negotiator. 

Pepper can’t help beaming when it’s unanimous. 

“Okay, now what about the science crew?” Tony turns on Jane.

“Tony, no.” Pepper grabs his knee under the table. 

“We’re going back to New Mexico for now, but we’re going to look over the contract and get back to Pepper in a week.” Jane shares a significant look with Darcy, who probably didn’t even know there was a new contract on the table. The look is shared with Pepper, and Pepper thinks it’s a promise to actually consider this one. The last several iterations hadn’t been taken seriously this week.

Pepper squeezes Tony’s knee. He stares across the table at Jane. Bruce clears his throat and after a second Tony looks at him. He gives a full body twitch, then sighs. “Fine. But about everyone else. Should I give the moving crew at the compound the go ahead?”

“Moving crew?” Wanda asks, and Pepper just shakes her head at the other woman. 

“Yes. I fucking hate packing.” Sam sees most of the rest of the table shaking their heads. “What? Hey, as the grand champion of-“

“You know that stops as soon as the vacation is over, right?” Natasha asks.

“The hell it does. I’m wearing this baby every game night.” Sam wobbles his head and the action figures all sway. “Deal with it.”

“No movers. We need to be able to trust our stuff.” Steve says, watching Sam. He points up at the crown. “Game nights only after we’re off vacation. Also, now seems like a good time to suggest that the second annual Avenger’s Challenge take place the week of the Mara Luna race?”

“Ha! You guys think you can take my crown?” Sam crows, but then he settles and scratches at the back of his neck. Pepper knows this tell. She pulls out her phone, ready to add another note. “Also, about the race.”


	44. Chapter 44

“Well.” Jane sits in her seat, misses a little, and scoots over to correct. The super soft seats are forgiving. “I could definitely get used to flying like this. Remember flying out of Aberdeen in that tiny plane with the drunk pilot?”

“You loved it.” Darcy is sprawled on the half circle couch-bed. Jane isn’t sure what it’s called, but Darcy had been all about it on the flight in as well.

“So did you.” Jane nudges her friend’s foot, propped on the arm-headboard. Darcy’s bright yellow flip-flop, that Jane suddenly remembers fishing out of a clearance bin in a Piggly Wiggly in Texas, falls to the plush carpet.

“You’re picking that up, I hope you know.” Darcy threatens halfheartedly.

“It was kind of hard leaving them, huh?” Jane tries to think of another period in which she’d spent that much time with Thor. No intergalactic politics, no family trouble, no invasions, no science even. It’s kind of shocking to her how right Darcy had been about them needing it.

How is it that Jane has dated Thor for years and didn’t know how lovely morning sex was with him? Yes, lovely. Jane isn’t sure she’s ever used that word in her life, and especially not when describing sex. But it had been. The familiarity that grew after several lazy mornings, with the scrape of his morning scruff, the feel of their over warm skin, the way that he’s almost clumsy and quick to smile that sleepy, happy smile.

“Dude. I got a let's join the mile high club kiss before he traipsed on over to a different plane. Is there ice? I think I need ice to cool down.”

“Ice isn’t going to help. Trust me.” Jane opens one of the sliding cupboards. A pile of magazines fall out. The one on her foot has Tony on the cover – no wait, they all have Tony on the cover. Jane bites back a smile and opens the next cupboard. Jackpot.

“Ow.” Darcy moans. “Why do you insist on throwing things at me – Oh, Janie. Thank you. Alcohol, my old friend. You’re allowed to throw alcohol at me.”

“I know.” Jane reminds her.

“Jane, you know that you’re my life partner. You’re the nacho cheese to my corn chip. The Harold to my Harvey. The Timon to my Pumba.” Darcy rolls over so she’s mostly facing Jane, if upside down. “The pop to my tart, Jane. You know that right?”

“You have said all of these things before. Except the Harold and Harvey one. I liked it.”

Darcy nods as if accepting her due. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Jane glances at the pile of glossy magazines. “I think Tony Stark might actually be a good person.”

“I know. Mystery of the Universe Number 34, solved.” Darcy does a lazy fist pump. “Do you feel better now? A huge weight is off your chest with that baring of your soul? Are you cleansed by-“

“Fine. There might be more.” Jane takes another drink and picks at the label with her thumbnail. Then she stops, because Pepper had painted them and they look pretty and also, the polish even looks expensive. “Wanna dig through some fine print and legalese?”

“Boy howdy, do I ever.” Darcy rolls so she’s sitting. “And did I make Bucky help me put tabs and markers on all the new stuff? By mew-mew’s glory, yes I did.”

“It was kind of funny, how horrified Pepper was that we wanted it in hard copy, wasn’t it?”

“It was a little funny. It was a lot funny how hard she tried to hide it and still failed. She totally almost gets away with the ‘this is all Tony’ thing.” Darcy holds out an inches thick binder. “You can find proprietary rights under unicorn, and the Tony Amendments under narwhal.”

“These ones aren’t glittery.”

“I used all the glitter ones on the five other contracts this week. How many awesome stickers do you think I can carry? These ones are scratch and sniff. The penguin smells like blackberry and is addicting, you have been warned.”

It takes them six and a half hours, three of the lobster sandwiches Thor had packed for them, and one packet of pop-tarts to go over the changes. They’d also laughed far too much cutting Tony out of the magazines and pasting him next to the different clauses Pepper had added, making it so that his expression matches whatever action it is that the clauses cover.

Tony’s seductive sneer from a Vogue shoot eleven years ago, in an electric blue dress shirt with applique? Goes right next to the sexual harassment clause.

Tony’s cutesy dipping his toe in the water of a swan fountain and looking surprised over his shoulder? Next to the Tony isn’t wearing pants clause.

Tony snarling and making a claw while crawling across a marble floor? Next to the Tony caught someone on fire clause.

Jane’s stomach hurts by the time they’ve reached the end.

“What do you think?” Darcy offers Jane a sheet of stickers.

“Honestly? I think it seems too good to be true. They aren’t making us go on lecture tours, they aren’t making us do any shady documentaries, they aren’t forcing a publishing requirement on us, and they aren’t demanding any rights to my work, discoveries, or inventions unless I sign them over at a later date.” Jane rubs a hand over her face.

Darcy digs into her bag and pulls out another, smaller binder of papers. She drops it into Jane’s lap.

“What’s this?”

“Everything I could find on the contracts and working life of some of Stark Industries other big acquisition scientists. And you wanna know something cool? The majority of them are women. None of the contracts are shitty.”

Jane flips through the binder. It’s compiled from boring end of quarter statements, not so boring articles from scientific journals, and flashier stuff from magazines.

“The people in costumes might save us from assholes trying to take over the world, but Pepper Potts is a true superhero saving us from infuriating sexism and craptastic social policy.” Darcy hooks a finger in her shirt and mimes her heart beating out of her chest. “Seriously, I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on, and I could go on for hours, but just – no wonder people want to work there.”

Jane bites her lip. This is just like when she tried to choose where to use her scholarship. Well, kind of like that. “So awesome contract, awesome lab, awesome boss, awesome place to live with our awesome boyfriends.”

Darcy makes a face, then wiggles a hand.

“What? Bucky isn’t awesome, or isn’t your boyfriend?”

“The second one. We didn’t really talk about it. You know, since we only met two weeks ago, and live on opposite sides of the country.” Darcy sticks a fresh penguin sticker over her top lip, then scratches it. “As Grandma Lewis says, don’t keep a man based on the orgasms he gives you unless you trust he’ll be there to do it again tomorrow night.”

“A wise and time-tested adage. But it’s not just the orgasms.”

“Don’t discount the orgasms, Janie, he does this thing-“

“With the,” Jane shakes her left hand, “I know Darce. But you’re the corn chip to my cheese, the Harvey to my Harold, the Pumba to my Timon, the tart to my pop. I know you.”

“He might be equally amazing out of the sack, which is pretty darn amazing considering-“

“I know, Darce.” Darcy's phone dings, and her face lights up when she looks at the screen. Jane smiles. “See? He makes you look like that.”

“He says he’ll be in LA next week and he wants me to meet him for the weekend.” Darcy clears her throat twice. “Jane, I know we have that thing, but I’m starting to get this tickle in my throat.”

“Sounds like you should stay in bed. You know, in five days, when it really hits you.”

“You are the doctor. Far be it for me to question your sage advice.”

Jane props her chin on Darcy’s shoulder, watching the other woman use far, far too many emojis. “But I was thinking maybe you could see him sooner. Maybe we could fly to New York, sign the contract in person. What do you think?”

“I think the contract is beyond perfect, the lab sounds amazing, and we can really get some kick ass work done with that budget. And oh holy hell do I want to live in New York instead of the desert. Also, our plan to coordinate watching  _Sins_ was hopeful at best."

“C’mon, let’s go tell the pilot. He might be wearing a uniform, and you know how I react to those.”

Darcy's phone chimes again, and again, she smiles the glowy, happy smile that makes Jane love Bucky a little herself. "Gotta get him a ringtone. He's going to Paris with Nat and Steve for work, but they're staying on afterwards in a few weeks. Anyway, I thought you’ve been working on your problems with authority.” 

“Why would I do that? Authority steals my work-“

“True”

“-gives me undeserved speeding tickets-“

“Ehhhhh.”

“-and says I must put away my spectrometer while the landing gear is deployed.”

“You were freaking people out.” Darcy knocks briskly on the door, then slides it open to reveal the cockpit. “Besides-“

Clint sits in the pilot’s seat, and Sam sits in the co-pilot’s seat.

“ _There_ you are! We missed you.” Sam smiles, knocking Clint with his elbow.

“You hijacked our plane?” Jane demands. She feels like she should be less surprised than she is, after the past two weeks. But still. 

“As friends!” Clint exclaims with an air of hurt incredulity.

“Are we headed to New York?” Darcy accuses and Jane feels her mouth drop open.

“In our defense, right now we’re headed in the general direction of the United States.”

Jane turns on Sam. “Why are you even here? You can’t fly airplanes.”

“One, I’m learning, Jane. Can I live? Two,-“

“They wouldn’t let you wear the crown.” Darcy interrupts.

“The flight back still counts as vacation.” Sam reaches up to pat the crown.

“How much of that did you hear?” Jane motions back towards the lounge.

“Hardly anything. There’s a lot of engine noise up here. Sometimes. Not now, but definitely earlier.”

Darcy gasps. “You texted Bucky!”

“Yes we did.” Sam’s chin comes up. “We’re Hawkeye and the Falcon, you think we wouldn’t have our boy’s back?”

“Wingmen.” Darcy groans, her phone in her hand. She stabs at the buttons. “That’s just-“

“Talk to me.” Tony’s voice comes from the speaker on Darcy’s phone.

“Are you, by chance, missing a couple of birdbrained friends?” Jane asks.

There’s a moment of silence. Then Clint and Sam’s phones both ding. Jane snatches Clint's from his hands, pinching him when he won’t let go.

_They know you’re there._

Clint scowls at Jane, rubbing at a red spot on his arm.

“I think we figured that out.” Sam says.

Another beat of silence. “You _found_ them. Thank goodness, we’ve been so worried. Steve, cancel the Bucky Alert, call off the guard, Darcy and Jane found them. Clint, Sam, never do this to us again. Brucie has been beside himself!  _Tell_ people when you’re-“

Darcy ends the call. Then she stomps back out of the pilot’s cabin, and Jane and Sam follow. Darcy yanks up the window cover, and they can all see the other jet.

"You kidnapped us!" Darcy yells, slamming open another two window covers like the view will change. The other jet remains where it was, hovering in the near distance.

"As friends!" Clint yells back from the cockpit. 

Sam rubs the back of his neck. “So you guys wanna sit up there with us? We brought Clint’s toaster oven and we have taquitos.”

“Psh. Thor packed us lunches and snacks, we don’t need your taquitos.” Darcy grabs the big cooler Thor had carried on board for them. She hip checks Sam when he tries to take it from her. “But out of curiosity, what kind?”

“Spicy beef and three cheese chicken.”

“We’ll talk.” Jane tells him, knowing Darcy has a weakness for the three cheese chicken.

They get settled up in the cockpit, and while they aren’t happy about it, Clint and Sam trade them twenty taquitos for half a lobster roll and one penguin sticker each. They don’t really have a good comeback for ‘you kidnapped us’, which Jane wields with regularity during the negotiations.

“So, what was Mystery of the Universe Number 34?” Clint asks, and Sam drops his head into his hands, quickly adjusting so his crown doesn’t slip off.

“We get the next ten taquitos since you lied, Mr. there’s a lot of engine noise up here.” Jane says, and Clint moans pathetically.

"Taquitos, no."

“Jane and I might have made a list of mysteries of the universe we’d like to solve or see solved someday. Like what is black matter, how many licks does it actually take to get to the center of a tootsie pop, can Ryan Gosling ever look bad, that kind of stuff.

“What’s the fastest a human being can eat a foot long sub one-handed, what’s inside a black hole, why is Pepper Potts with Tony Stark.” Jane finishes. “There are currently forty-one mysteries on the list. We’ve marked off thirteen.”

Clint’s phone buzzes in Jane’s pocket. She arches a brow at him as she pulls it out. It’s another text from Tony.

_How do they seem? If I can get past Pepper, I can get the suit and be over there in sixty seconds._

Jane tips the phone towards Darcy so she can read it, then hands the phone towards Clint. “Tell him to cool his repulsors, we’re going to New York.”

Jane and Darcy’s phones both chime. It’s from Pepper.

_I’m sorry about him._

A red and gold suit streaks across the sky and disappears. Then the controls light up the windshield with blue writing, advising them that they are being boarded.

“Alright, final offer, rooftop pool complete with wave simulator, your float, and- “ Tony stops. “Are those three cheese chicken? And what is on your faces?"

"Scratch and sniff stickers, just say no. Just say no. You don't want to go down this road." Clint gives his sticker another scratch and inhales deeply.

"Uh, yeah I do. Give me." Tony rips the sticker off Sam's face.

"No you didn't!" Sam gasps. "I know you just did not-"

Darcy smacks another sticker on Sam's lip. Then she gives both Sam and Clint a somewhat terrifying quelling look that Jane recognizes from really bad days. "So, about this pool."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! I'm pretty sure there are going to be one shots in this series. Maybe the crowning of the second annual Avenger's Challenge champion? Wanda and her boat? There have been suggestions for a transcript of Steve and Darcy's phone calls in the beginning, and also a peek at the way Sam suffers over Freddie for years to come. 
> 
> For now, I'm deciding what to post. If you read my other series, you'll know I just emerged from lurkdom. I have quite a few fics banked, just in need of editing, fact checking, polishing, etc. Choices include:
> 
> -Darcy/Steve, time travel. Angstier. Darcy forms a strong friendship with Rebecca Barnes, meets the Commandos, and wishes for pants.  
> -Bucky/Darcy, ghost?Bucky, Darcy's family is prolific and awesome, scientists the lot of them, Erik gets adopted by Darcy's great aunt and uncle who split their time between a low-tech family winery and trend setting in Paris.  
> -Darcy/Steve, humor, long distance friendship turning into more after an email mix-up, Darcy becomes mvp at SI London, although no one knows exactly what her job description is. Miss Lewis' post-it note compliments are successfully used to justify a bigger share of the budget.


End file.
